


Very Much Wanted

by ShadyQuiet



Series: Very Much Wanted [1]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies), James Bond (Movies), Sherlock (TV), Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: ...Of the wanted variety, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst, Bondlock, Disturbing Themes, Dubious Science, Established Relationship, Family Angst, Family Bonding, Fluff, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, More fluff. And more fluff, Mpreg, Pregnancy, alpha!Bond, at least in some chapters, injuries, omega!Q
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-31
Updated: 2014-04-06
Packaged: 2017-12-07 02:53:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 51
Words: 306,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/743355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadyQuiet/pseuds/ShadyQuiet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James and Q have been mated for over a year, they've stopped trying to avoid pregnancy, and now the Quartermaster finds himself expecting...<br/>James is overprotective, Q is in over his head, and both are just a little bit over the moon.<br/>Of course, they don't train SIS agents in pregnant omega care, or child care for that matter... Or meeting your mate's more than slightly unhinged family.<br/>Neither do they train Quartermaster's in juggling pregnancy symptoms with work, protective lovers, and growing your own life form.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. H0: The Quartermaster is not pregnant, H1: The Quartermaster is pregnant.

**Author's Note:**

> Sooo, I've written a few 00Qs now, but this is my first upload, I haven't seen many mpregs yet (especially not planned ones!), sorry for those who dislike, best to steer away now ;)  
> But I can, and I like, and I will n_n

Bond was in Malta. Quite how he managed to always avoid freezing climates these days Q didn’t know. He was glad of it though. And maybe suspected Mallory, M, as the main culprit.

What was it the man had once said?

‘Half of my job is split dealing with national security and soothing ruffled ministers… The other half is spent keeping my best assets happy.’

Apparently Q was one of those ‘best assets’, and Bond, whether appropriately considered one before or not, certainly became high priority as soon as he mated the quartermaster.

It had taken a year, after Skyfall. Q truly hadn’t noticed Bond’s scent much beyond ‘alpha’ in their first mission together, although he had felt a certain affection for the man, he was dually distracted with re-floating the sunken ship that was Q Branch and recovering from the rather nasty explosion. It had been half a year before he’d regained any libido or interest in the more dominant sex. As soon as he’d begun feeling once again like a battered omega rather than a drug-dulled beta, Bond had been right there and as shiny as the new R&D lab he got to play in.

They’d started with longer talks on missions. Surprisingly Q had been the one to get possessive over the right to guide James through far away cities and provide him personally with equipment… A favour he’d had to expand to 006 since, and often enough for the other secret agents.

Bond was, of course, the main instigator however. Q quite found his unruly courtship as hilarious as he did endearing… The hot air balloon rid aside, that is. But the occasional gifts, the provision of sorely needed meals, the forced back rubs onto work-tense shoulders, it had all worked a certain magic that Q had been attempting to avoid.

He was, of course, on suppressants as were all omegas deemed valuable enough to not be allowed statutory Heat Leave. They hadn’t held when half way through 007’s six week long mission to India Q had gone into full heat smack bang in the middle of the day and was swiftly locked down in medical for two weeks whilst it ravaged his system.

Unbearable. Q had never experienced ‘mate call’ before, a specific heat that occurred in omegas when an ‘ideal’ mate was found, designed to indicate receptiveness to a specific individual. Fortunately, no other alphas had been attracted too much to such a specific call… unfortunately Bond was continents away and blissfully unaware whilst Q writhed in excruciating agony, loosing his mind and illogically feeling rejection subconsciously.

It hadn’t taken long after that for them to get serious, although once again Q wasn’t up to much for a while, barely able to make it through a day at work without a nap whilst his body recovered from the ordeal.

Finally, a year after their first meeting, Q struck up a second mate-call, nearly scaring himself to death at the fear of ‘rejection’ again that he’d tried to be so blasé about after the first time, but James had been there…

That had been that.

Since then they’d had a year and a half together, and it was now, again half way through a mission for Bond, when Q started waking at obscene hours of the night to throw up, and became nauseous at all times of the day. It was utterly useless and infuriating and downright exhausting… And more often than not made Q whimper for James before he could squash the response with sensibility and reasoning. He’d managed sicknesses plenty of times before, this time it was just particularly getting him annoyed. When he sometimes couldn’t leave his desk swiftly enough to reach a toilet and had had to resort to vomiting into a waste bin, it was hardly something that made him feel like the head of Q Branch that he was.

“Oooh, how far along are you?” Q looked up from where he’d been spitting out the remaining bile into the bin beside his desk and half glared at his youngest minion. A sweet girl, but a bit doomed towards the secretarial pool if he was being honest.

“Far along with what?” He questioned, frustration leaking into his voice as he racked his brains for anything he was working on that she might be the slightest bit privy to. Especially something so important she felt the need to bring it up whilst he was vomiting under his own desk. He was fed up, and hated getting sick, even if he was prone to it. Half his mind was already thinking to call security on her; James may have rubbed some paranoia off on him slightly. Mindy beamed at him at if she’d seen the latest Apple product.

“Well, with the pup of course!” She added as if Q was being a silly little thing. Q just stared up at her, making rare eye contact where he usually darted his gaze about too fast for deep connection. Upon seeing her boss’ blank expression, her eyes turned comically wide.

“Oh! Oh, oh I’m… I’m mistaken! I’m, I’ll… I’ll just go!” Q stared at where she’d been for long after the poor girl had dashed out.

Pup sickness. It would explain a lot… well, everything. Quick as a flash Q stood and dialled for Moneypenny.

“I’m leaving early. Medical emergency, or something.” And dropped it without another word. Q Branch looked on, astonished, as their usually die-hard-working boss pushed things erratically into his messenger bag and hurried out of the premises without much coordination.

On the way home he stopped by every Boots, Superdrug and supermarket he passed. You could never be too careful when testing a theory, better to have a range to properly assess the hypothesis.

Home was much more a sanctuary now that James lived in it than it had ever been for Q on his own, and he started going through his usual post work routine without even realising.

Except that soon he found himself wearing one of his alpha’s shirts and nothing else except boxers and staring at the line up of pregnancy tests sitting on the bathroom counter, wondering if James would have a problem with him pissing on sticks whilst wearing the other’s clothes…

He hoped not. Whilst James was away Q found himself hard pressed to change into his own clothes for work, let alone decease from wearing his alpha’s within the house.

Should he call James first? That was usually reserved for emergencies though, did this count? Should he even take a test before James returned?

They’d been trying for a while now… or rather not trying to prevent pregnancy. Q had to say, he’d been nervous about children. He wasn’t even thirty, though he was considered nearly old for a childless omega. But… he had James, and the alpha may not have said outright that he’d desired pups, but Q could see something in him when he looked at families, had sensed the change in him since they’d mated… James wanted a family. Q didn’t know what he wanted, but he knew that if he ever wanted one, it would be with James.

Their conception chances were pretty slim anyway. James had to take pills to neutralise his sperm for missions, lest he rampantly pregnate half the populace of other nations whilst on her Majesty’s clock. The medicine took a while to clear his system each time. There had been the chance that his fertility was damaged permanently or low as a result, and Q hadn’t exactly been a beacon of Omega Health magazine. What with the low sunlight, mad working hours, thin physique and a tendency towards frailty in heat or cold, there had been the chance that he wasn’t capable of conceiving… or if he managed that, carrying anything to term considering the chemicals he’d worked with.

Nerves washed over him and Q snatched up one of the packets, ripping it open frantically and feeling itchy at the excess packaging. He had to know. If this was a false alarm or just a winter-approaching illness or some pseudo-pregnancy because Rachel and Rupert in code analysis had announced their looming pregnancy five months ago, he needed to know now before getting James’ hopes up.

Once the wrapping had been thoroughly defeated and tossed carelessly aside, Q found himself having a slight nerves-related performance issue. Apparently peeing on command was harder than it looked.

Several cups of calming tea should cure that… Could he even drink tea? Alcohol was off. Should he follow his nose, or was it too soon for that fabled omega ‘baby knows best’ sense?

Too many questions!

Q left the bathroom and settled for water, unable to distract himself with his laptop he settled for the TV.

Even after three cups he didn’t need to pee. But at some point he did need to go dry retch over the toilet. He couldn’t tell if that was from nausea though or simply nerves.

Q skirted off a call from Tanner, possibly the only man more prone to neuroses than Q could be, and claimed migraine, he was allowed to clock off at 3 once every year or so if he wanted. Though if he was pregnant he’d have to tell them soon enough. Not before James though.

If he kept throwing up in bins however, it may become either obvious or a matter of national security that he be moved back to medical. Q shuddered at the very thought.

If he drank too much water would it dilute the test too much into a false negative?

“Oh for God’s sake. Pull yourself together.” Q scolded himself, and went to go turn a tap on to encourage his bladder. James would understand the higher water bill; it was in aid of science. Or at least Q’s mental respite.

It took five hours, and five different types of test, leaving a further thirteen behind, before Q was staring at the variously marked little symbols that unanimously indicated positive.

Q didn’t know if he felt elated or sick. Was it always good to have an anomaly, or was it better to have no variation? With no variation, the tests felt fixed. Q analysed the components of the tests he’d used (each box usually contained three, so he took a ‘control’ from each brand). He also spent far too much time taking one completely apart, attempting to rebuild it, and carefully researching online about how the tests worked.

By three in the morning Q was surrounded by thirteen positives, one from each brand he’d acquired, a spreadsheet of his symptoms and the different tests, and several mounds of printed research from scientific papers to gossip magazines on pregnancy symptoms.

By five, when he was measuring his stomach against what would be expected of an omega his sex, age, weight and height during multiple stages of a pregnancy, Q thought that he had maybe gone overboard.

Too geared up to sleep, especially since worrying about a lack of said rest potentially killing off anything he and James had cultivated in his belly, Q headed into work at 6 am. The omega deadlocked all baby related documents, whilst surreptitiously using occasional tea breaks to look up doctors, make calendars and track when James was due back.

Operations suggested a week. Q tried scanning through his information. If he was already experiencing morning sickness, he had to be about four or five weeks along at least, more likely five with the urine pregnancy tests working… Maybe Q should get a blood test taken? No. Overboard again. Maybe when James was back.

Researching what had happened so far by even as few (or many, for someone normally so organised) as five weeks made Q a little put out that he hadn’t been paying attention earlier to realise what he was trying to produce inside. Potentially. Although he was still slightly doubtful, the other half of his mind was desperately clinging to logic and attempting to treat his body as an ongoing science experiment to avoid from panicking at the thought that they actually were having a baby.

Apparently right now he might be the proud parent of a blastocyst, a name he was sure James would appreciate as much as he did. A cluster of ever-dividing cells about the size of an apple or orange seed growing within him… The thought made him feel slightly wriggly.

Q had to stop himself from checking his always-flat stomach for changes once an hour. He also had to stop himself from whining whenever he opened his mouth as if James might mysteriously hear him and appear.

He was head of Q Branch; he wasn’t about to start whimpering for his alpha in the middle of an otherwise perfectly normal working day.

Five weeks… maybe four, six by the time James returned.

Q threw himself into the most complex security reinforcements and coding that he had on his plate to avoid the fear creeping up his spine.

By 7 pm he was still at work and had moved onto dissecting the blueprints and prototypes for a waterproof gun that had been the pet project and bane of Q Branch for centuries.

By 11 Q shook himself out of the zone, experiencing some light-headedness, and cursed himself for behaving rashly.

Could lack of sleep kill a blastocyst? Certainly the air of R&D wouldn’t be good for one. Q wondered if he could get away with HAZMAT gear or if he’d have to give up that aspect of his job for the duration. The thought was a little saddening.

Upon arriving home, Q took three more tests, and forced down an appallingly healthy sandwich. Apparently he was still pregnant. Which was good, and somewhat of a mixed relief… How soon would it take a test to show him if he’d stopped being pregnant? Was it instant? Would he notice? He hadn’t noticed even becoming pregnant… Could he have already lost their little blastocyst out of carelessness and only find out in a few days?

At least he’d know he was capable of pregnancy… unless the loss of a pup or the cause of that loss affected him permanently.

Maybe he wouldn’t even show as un-pregnated until James had returned and he’d shared the news with him…

Q forced himself to go to bed for a restless night, hiding any and all sleeping pills that he and James reserved for some of the omega’s worst nights in the coding zone in order to avoid the temptation.

 

-00Q00-

 

Q was so set in his worked-up motion that he took every attack of pup sickness both as a sign of their blastocyst’s continued health and also something that might cause it to die. The paranoia was reaching new heights even for Q.

He’d also taken to worrying that worry could kill the small ball of dividing parts inside him.

Calls from agents in the field were a relishing balm to the tumult of his mind. The adrenaline of the unknown help he needed to provide, along with the tension of an agents’ distress focused him so completely that he managed to forget about little Blasty for a while.

The rather surprising security breach that had come from the Shazam app on someone’s Smartphone of all things was a thoroughly pleasant distraction, especially when all of Q branch had surrounded the offending article and given it a thorough beat down and burial. Really, even HR should know better.

The tension, delving into projects and potential-pregnancy combined however to make Q unpleasantly tired half the damn time. Which was ridiculous. He could make a machine gun within a day if asked and corrupt half the world’s banking systems in two, yet he was getting exhausted from incubating something no bigger than a quarter inch at most, by his calculations.

On the day Bond was scheduled to return, Q begged off early leave once again, and was permitted due to the absence and pending arrival of his mate. The last thing he wanted was to blurt out a potential pregnancy to the whole of MI6 the instant James walked through the door, even sitting at home and going stir crazy with worry was preferential.

So at quarter to four Q packed up his debris, instructed R to see James back in and de-equip him and wandered off. He wandered home, picking up some more tests from the only stores he hadn’t visited on the way. He’d been religiously testing himself every night after work, and had run out yesterday. Q told himself that this next batch of ten was just for James, but he wasn’t fooling himself.

The thought flashed through his head, as it so often did, that this was a dangerous world for a child, especially with their lives. That Q was too young to have a pup, that it would ruin his burgeoning career. That he might not even carry it to term. That they would have to spend all their lives looking after another living thing without reprise… That he would have to tell his family… his rather eccentric, abnormal family…

Q stopped dead at the thought with a repressed shudder, imagining Sherlock holding James Bond’s child upside down with that questioning inspection on his face lasting a mere second before 007 shot him with a gun that Q had designed.

Swiftly the omega forced himself to hurry on, hoping that all his worrying was more due to James’ absence than his own descent into insanity.

James took exactly 2h33 minutes from landing to arriving back at the flat, getting through all the MI6 necessities in between.

Q chewed his finger nervously and shifted on the sofa. It was one of the few things he had kept after they’d moved in together, other than enough cushions and blankets to curb his somewhat ridiculous nesting-drive and ensure that it didn’t get out of control. It was dark leather, corner seated and covered in ridiculous tropical coloured cushions he’d picked up around the place, knowing he’d never visit such locations. Personally, he thought it went well with the brick walls of the flat.

James had wanted to furnish the bedroom, unsurprisingly, and Q had to admit he’d never slept better than on the huge sprawl-worthy bed of his alpha. It had taken the omega some time to get used to the lower than previous, middle-of-the-room bed that James had unashamedly installed in front of the floor to ceiling windows, they acted like a mirror at night if the curtains remained open. Together they’d tackled the simple kitchen and the bathroom, where James had been rather pleased to find a sunken bath with a showerhead piped up the wall.

Q fought with himself not to leap up when the door clicked and his mate entered, but in the end the overwhelming scent of James sent him shooting up and going a bit weak at the knees. The alpha took a deep inhale and grinned when he saw Q, who thought his returning smile might be rather dopey.

“So this is where you’ve been hiding. R said you’d left already.” Q clung on when James, wonderfully uninjured James, pulled him close for a kiss. Q thought he could be excused from trying to climb up his mate slightly with enthusiasm. Just having James’ hands on him, steady and coiled with lethal, contained strength, washed away some of his tension.

“Hello.” Q replied, a bit dreamily, and proceeded to smoosh face with James in a rather ineffective nuzzle before nipping his mate’s lips for another kiss. The alpha chuckled as he complied, taking away some of his mate’s restlessness by licking into Q’s mouth hungrily.

For a while they stayed that way, scents dancing through desperate to want to welcome as they reunited. James’ large hands rubbed up and down Q’s sides before he pulled back. Q licked his lips contentedly and then bit them as his mate frowned, sniffing first the air and fixing the slighter man with a hard stare.

“What’s wrong? What happened?” His voice was sharp and Q held up his hands placatingly as he stepped backwards.

“Don’t get too excited.” He demanded first, sending James’ frown from daggers to questioning.

“Excited? Q-“

“I may or may not be pregnant.” The pause hung in the air whilst James’ demeanour switched from confusion to surprise back to bemused.

“You may or may not be?” He confirmed, starting to smirk a little, feigning humour to cover the insecure hope Q could just read behind his eyes.

“Well,” Q dropped his hands, feeling the shaky worry of dealing with his own insecurity for a week come back over him. “The tests all say positive… and I’ve been taking three a night all week, and I’ve been sick, but it could be the flu, and the fatigue could be anything, and its not a real blood test but I didn’t want to go to medical but I hope… I think…” As Q rambled through his tumbled thoughts and concerns, a smile grew on James’ face, turning up into a slow grinning beam, eyes lighting up.

“You’re pregnant?”

“Like I say, the tests-“ Q was halted by James bursting into laughter and grabbing Q close, kissing him soundly once on the lips.

“You’ve been taking three tests a night, and you’re not sure?” James teased with a smile so bright Q thought he might get lost in it. He fought for words for a moment.

“I wanted to be absolute… I even brought some more today in case you didn’t believe me or wanted to see for yourself.” He answered, a little petulantly. The alpha’s face switched to a bit more intense.

“You have more?” Q nodded with confusion and gestured to the bathroom vaguely.

“I’m afraid I may look like I have a habit to the local shops.” Q couldn’t continue as he was spun around and walked to the bathroom by his mate.

“You’re showing me.” James said decisively, and Q fought down a little flutter of excitement as one hand sneaked round under his shirt and cardigan to rest on his stomach, teasing oh so gently with fingers as if to suss out his belly.

“You’re not watching me pee on a stick.” Q managed, calmly but firmly, James just chuckled and turned to kiss under his ear with a little lick as they came to stand before the bathroom mirror.

“Try and stop me, I dare you.”

“Bond-“

“I’m not missing one moment of this Quartermaster, now…” James grabbed and unwrapped one of the sticks, still grinning, “which end do I need to hold?”

“Oh God.”


	2. H0: James Bond is happy; H1: James Bond is happy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy wow I have never had so many reviews for a story before! Thank you all so much for being so encouraging n_n  
> Sorry for the slight delay, to quote Q I 'may or may not' have gone to see the Spice Girls musical yesterday... and when I say 'may', I mean I did...  
> Judge at will! ;D

‘Pregnant’. The word flapped around Bond’s head as he tucked his chin onto Q’s shoulder, one hand wrapped up underneath his mate’s clothes to rub his palm over the flat stomach. His other hand held the non-business end of the pregnancy test. Apparently they took a few minutes to reveal anything, but as Bond was fairly sure 20 plus positive tests meant Q was pregnant, he wasn’t too tense waiting.

Not too tense. James reminded himself that if he could face down gun points without blinking, he could cope with one piece of life-changing plastic. Not to mention, Q seemed to need all the reassurance he could get right now. The alpha felt a bit regretful about once again being absent for his omega.

When they’d first met, Q had smelt so vague that Bond didn’t know what to make of him, and the agent had long since trained himself to not focus on scents alone, there were so many ways to hide behind it. Alphas weak to the world, omegas who could take you down without blinking, betas that were more sensual than either.

But not this one. Bond could tell that Q was an omega, just, but he could see the stiffness in his movement, concealed by fluidity and a somewhat distracted haze. Sharp but soft, present but somewhere else, intense but vague. Of course it was only later that he was informed Q, then R, had been caught in the MI6 explosion and was on a fair myriad of painkillers to keep him in active service during such a time of crisis.

He could sense the recovery maybe better than even Q himself. That enticing scent of omega beginning to swirl around the air after Q walked by… James had to say, a fully recovered Q… well, he wouldn’t have even needed to be so damn smart to get any job he wanted.

Although maybe James was just biased, but he was fond of the omega even before being able to scent just how… omega he was. Rather thankfully, Q had looked up one day and seemed to notice Bond too. The sear of pleasure had settled pleasantly within the assassin and brewed like a dose of good scotch.

James was rather thankful that Q wasn’t expecting an old fashioned courtship. He would see some trinket that reminded him of his quartermaster and take it back. Q was appallingly bad at feeding himself, so James brought him food. At first he provided out of genuine worry for Q’s health, shortly after as pleasure from the man’s naked relief and delight at the presented morsels. Maybe it had gotten out of hand when Tanner had walked in to find 007 hand feeding the Quartermaster tempura from a rather good restaurant he had discovered, the taste of the dish swiftly displacing Q’s reluctance to be fed in public…

Maybe the balloon ride had been a mistake. A big mistake. Q nearly passed out from fright after trying to punch James in the face. It had been all he could do to get the omega back to the ground in one relatively sane piece.

James had rarely experienced such pain however, as when he came back from India to find a weakened and sick Q dragging himself through work, expression blank and defeated. He couldn’t help being sent on missions, of course, but mate-call heat was rare, and the agent had been horrified to find the omega he was courting in such a state. For weeks James had trailed around after Q whenever he could, assuring the fragile omega of his interest and dedication.

More often than not he’d had to help Q get to a bed for some sleep when fatigue crashed over him. The distressed scents that had lingered around the quartermaster struck James more than he’d anticipated… It didn’t help that he could smell the tail end of a rejected heat designed specifically for him.

Just him. Bond’s possessive and protective streaks were high on a regular day, but around a recovering Q the drives were particularly rampant. James wondered if Q was too sick to tell just how much he restrained his nature in order to not smother the omega.

They’d made it through, thanks mostly to instincts, James was terrified of making a wrong move and loosing something he now considered his, and Q was constantly nauseated by the thought of going through that experience again, as well as the intrinsic fear of rejection. There were some things in life however, that one couldn’t let slip away.

James thanked their prior friendship and respect for bonding them so thoroughly and providing valuable insight into each other’s characters. Without it, they may have fallen apart.

Of course it helped that nearly the entire work force of MI6 were determined to avoid either a similar incident or their prized quartermaster and agent becoming depressed from mate rejection.

The second time Q’s calling heat crept back, James was there within half an hour of the onset, barely giving Q time to have a first wave before he whisked the omega off.

It was hard to pin point a higher moment of satisfaction and triumph than finally being able to lay Q down on what would become their bed, safe in the knowledge that from then on they would be woven and bonded together for life. Inseparable even by distance.

Although, seeing the second pink strip appear on the plastic wand of the test in his hand came pretty close.

James grinned and sucked a kiss onto Q’s neck, holding him close but with a hand gently splayed on his currently flat belly.

“My Q. My clever little pregnant quartermaster.” Q coughed a bit, attempting to hide slight embarrassment.

“Hardly much intelligence involved.” James shushed him with a teasing but firm nip.

“You’re pregnant. That’s very clever.” Q huffled a bit, but didn’t complain for a while. After James had stroked his stomach for five minutes, the omega piped up.

“You’re sure-“

“How many tests have you done now?” Q huffed.

“They’re only plastic.”

“They work for everyone else.”

“False positives-“

“In twenty plus tests? You have to do better than that love.”

“Even so, the chances of carrying it to term-“ James swung Q around and gripped his arms, meeting his ever-changing eyes.

“You are going to be fine. The baby will be fine-“

“Technically it’s currently a blastocyst, if my research is correct.”

“A blastocyst?”

“Yes, a blastocyst.”

“…Only you would rather call your baby by its cellular formation.” James quipped with some fond exasperation, Q wriggled free and fixed him with the stern look usually reserved for demanding a return in equipment.

“James, your job, my job, my physique… We need to approach this level headedly.” James couldn’t resist brushing a strand of extra flyaway hair back.

“Would you like to get a blood test done? We’ll have to take you for some sort of check up at some point right?” Q managed to look momentarily horrified at James’ lack of knowledge, the quartermaster always seemed to forget that whatever information he himself took in wasn’t instantly osmosized to the general populace.

“Apparently the first pre-natal should be around six to eight weeks…so now if my calculations are correct.” The thought knocked James slightly dazed.

“Six weeks, already? We should spread the word.” James grinned, hands finding Q’s remarkably flat stomach.

“No. Not until ten weeks if we can help it. Although M should probably know sooner, and if we use medical, which I suppose we should, then he’s bound to be informed anyway. But by that stage the risks are significantly lower.” James held up his hands to stop Q.

Q rarely babbled, only stress and fatigue brought it out. Guilt burned him for a moment at the thought that Q had been carrying this stress alone. Had he even been resting? James’ mate was notorious for blocking out bodily demands and tracking his mind elsewhere.

“We’ll inform him tomorrow.” James assured, calmly, seeing the tension drop a bit. “How are you feeling?” Q’s laugh was slightly wrung out.

“Oh, bloody fantastic. Did I mention the need to either piss or vomit every half hour? Not to forget the,” Q pushed past blearily, back of the hand going to his forehead as he stumbled a bit to head out of the bathroom, “-rather vexing fatigue.” Protection snapped into place and James stepped forwards, curved his arms around Q and swept him up off his feet. The slighter man took a moment to squeak and frown at his alpha, a slightly moody glare being directed up.

“James-“

“No. I’m taking you to bed, where I will bring you food and you will sleep and I’ll hold you till morning. Then we’ll shower, and I’ll take you into work where we’ll get everything sorted and prove to you you’re pregnant. Until then,” James lowered Q onto the bed and sat beside him, ignoring the semi amused-placated smirk on his omega’s face, “you are going to lie there, and look bloody gorgeous.” James smirked; removing Q’s socks one by one, holding the other’s feet in his lap.

The stretching smile over Q’s face was a mixture of love and disbelief along with a dose of wit.

“Dear lord, you’re going to be a bloody nightmare aren’t you?” James paused to beam his best grin and moved on to slipping Q out of his cardigan.

“Yes.” He answered simply. “And you are going to be growing life forms inside you. And looking damn fine whilst doing it.” Q managed to snicker a bit through a yawn and tugged James down on top of him for a kiss. It was sweet enough, but laced with the heat of having spent too much time apart. Just as James managed to free Q of his top shirt buttons, the agent was pushed back with an apologetic grin.

“Toilet break.” Q explained and proceeded to slip off the bed and hurry back where they’d come from.

 

-00Q00-

 

James couldn’t sleep that night, though not for the usual reasons he was kept up after a mission. He kept watching Q.

The quartermaster was sleeping beside him like the dead, sprawled in all manner of limbs unless James held and tamed him. Q’s uncovered stomach fascinated his alpha to the point where it was distracting and he had to touch it. James’ hand could span the flat expanse of Q’s abdomen from hip to hip, not a bump in sight. Yet in his mate’s belly was something constantly growing, developing. Q could call it what he wanted, a blasto-something? To Bond it was nothing short of incredible.

He had no ground to base this on; no younger siblings or relatives, no pregnant friends from school or uni that he kept in touch with… He didn’t think that time he had to hijack a taxi only to find it loaded with a pregnant beta counted…

In some ways Q was right, there were a lot of things that could go wrong. And the quartermaster was only considering the inside threats and the ones he acted upon himself. James’ mind spun with threats, enemies.

A family was always something foolish that he had led himself to want.

At the same time however, Q had sneaked in and upturned his world. Q was realistic, for all that he was out of this world at times, and James’ recent skirmishes with death had revealed one painful truth to him.

He was getting older. One day the job would be too much for him, as it was most agents… There was an option here, choose to carry on until the bitter end, or attempt something that he had only ever toyed with…

Bond agreed whole-heartedly with the old M; orphans did make the best recruits, until they got a taste of something they’d had ripped away from them.

Maybe there was just a stage when an agent had seen so much that they secretly craved the opposite. James found himself hard pressed to care with Q’s warm skin under his hand, knowledge that they were creating something, not destroying, something of both of them…

A mixture of 007 and the Quartermaster… Now that would be a fearsome creature.

One James would defend to the death, along with his Q and his country.

With great difficulty James roused Q in the morning. Clearly the omega had been getting even less sleep than usual and took a good hour to wake up without his usual tea, something he seemed hell bent on refusing.

“Not until I clear it with the doctor… Tea, coffee, vodka, who knows what’s problematic for blastocysts.” James smirked at the hazy babbling as he subtly helped Q into a shirt whilst the lithe body squirmed around with his early morning system checks.

 

-00Q00-

 

Q had never been afraid to go into work. Even on his first day he was nervous, but not scared.

Maybe it was because he kept locating the nearest toilet or bin on hand just in case little Blasty got feisty again. The quartermaster could think of little worse than vomiting over M’s desk… except for maybe peeing himself in the room.

The full body shudder he waved off when James glanced at him.

They had arrived without Eve’s presence; she was currently courting millionaires on her ‘holiday’ to Spain. Q smirked slightly at the knowledge that she would hate having been out of the loop for this. James’ hand on the small of his back, secure, comforting, led him into M’s room.

“Q, 007. To what do I owe the pleasure… Dear God don’t tell me you’re both retiring.” The muted horror and displeasure on Mallory’s face was nearly comical. Recently 003, 004 and 009 had all retired to go live out their days in a polyandrous relationship on an island in the Mediterranean somewhere. Never had so many 00s retired at once… or retired altogether. Needless to say, there had been a fair bit of pandemonium.

Apparently the hiring and training of new potential 00 recruits was a singularly unpleasant task.

“No, not anything quite like that.” Q informed calmly, taking a perch on Mallory’s desk, leaving a bemused James to take the remaining seat. M didn’t bat an eye; this was how they conducted all of their meetings after all. It was better than him having to lean over the alpha’s shoulder to show him a tablet.

“Well then?” M prompted, throwing down a pen and leaning back to lace his fingers together. Q took one look at his mate’s Cheshire cat grin and felt dread swoop on him, clearly James had no intention of breaking the news gently, and Q couldn’t open his mouth fast enough to get in there first.

“Q’s pregnant.”

And damn did he have to sound just like the cat that got the cream.

 

-00Q00-

 

James took great pleasure in watching M flounder, imagining his old M’s likely response ‘well now you’ve gone and done it.’ To the head of MI6’s credit however, he reigned himself in fairly quickly and ignored James in favour of piercing Q with the full force of alpha sharpness and authority. James bristled a bit, though he remained outwardly calm, as Q shrunk a bit before snapping up to attention.

Q wasn’t one of those omegas to roll over for an alpha in the street, but he knew when to pay attention. In fact the one time Q had rolled over for James the alpha had been so dually shocked and nauseous that he’d gone and grabbed the omega to hoist him back upright. Q had been sick at the time, recovering from his horrific incident with heat, but it was something James didn’t wish to see again.

The only time he wanted Q to roll over for an alpha was when they were in bed together and the omega did it of his own free will.

“Are you sure?” James couldn’t hide his groan at the question, and as Q fiddled a bit.

“Well, I’ve only done home tests. But the results seem quite conclusive… still-“

“I’m ordering you a blood test. Do you have a specific doctor in mind already?” M announced, pulling his tablet over.

“Uhm, no, not really.” Q answered, looking over at James to clarify this answer, the man shrugged.

“I have no contacts for this sort of thing.” James avoided medical like the plague.

“And the one doctor I’d like isn’t exactly suitable for natal care.” Q’s voice was steady except for the slight shake over the words ‘natal care’. Wordlessly James reached out with his foot, out of sight from Mallory, and trapped Q’s dangling heel in the curve between his own shin and foot, rocking it a little. There was a small secret smile at the contact.

“You can use the one my mate did, we had him brought into MI6 but he operates out of one of our secure hospitals. More privacy, more security.” M informed, also writing the name on a scrap of paper whilst fashioning an e-mail. Q took the note whilst watching the mail with concentration, no doubt judging how secure the connection was. James wasn’t worried, he knew that Q had upgraded the hell out of the MI6 servers after the Silva incident and maintained them faultlessly.

“Conduct your own searches into him.” M finally advised, pushing away the tablet and looking up at both of them. “Be comfortable with him and trust him or we’ll find someone else.”

James was slightly impressed, he had to say.

“How far along do you suspect?” M turned to Q, who managed to hold his nerve this time.

“Something like six weeks.” M nodded once before his frown turned sympathetic.

“Nausea? Fatigue?” Q blushed slightly and nodded. “Cravings?”

“Not yet.”

“Well listen to them when you get them.” His gaze swept to Bond fully for the first time, it was a rare display of the fact that Q did in fact outrank James, in both position and import. Grudgingly the agent felt his respect for Mallory rise; evidently this was not someone happy to overlook an omega simply due to an alpha’s presence.

Another difference of the two M’s he had known in his career. Or maybe not? He had never approached her with such information and such a valuable asset at the same time. James found himself wondering what contortions her face would have taken, the thought left him slightly nostalgic.

James knew that Q had respect for this M, something to do with his breadcrumb trail for Silva. They were rarely on the same floor, but appeared to work rather familiarly with each other.

“We’ll have to review your mission status 007. Things will have to be played a little differently now.” James sat back a bit, startled or something akin to it. Q looked a little shocked too. In a technical sense James was rarely the most important asset on a mission or within MI6; it was the marks, information, M or other seniors with more in their heads than an agent who knew how to get the job done. Bond’s enemies were people, organisations… M and Q’s were countries and continents. Bond was always somewhat aware of his own expendability in the grand scheme of things. And of course to him Q was more important than anything he could name… But it was somewhat unusual to hear it said.

Somewhat refreshing, somewhat annoying. Gone evidently were the days of being the favoured child. James didn’t know if he should be miserable or relieved.

“There are no missions scheduled for now to worry about.” Q hedged carefully, as if attempting to soften the blow in case James balked at the idea of being downgraded…

An asset to one of MI6’s greatest assets indeed… how the world had changed from the days the old Q would have the freedom to drop cars off for Bond personally, identity hidden under the guise of valet, nation’s secrets safe in another department under paper lock and key… His Q was a whole other ball game, the world at his fingertips, not just inventions and resources, but anything, everything.

Not that it would matter to James, Q was his priority even more since becoming his mate. But he’d always considered the risk to Q’s health and life because of him… not because of the grief Q would suffer should James himself die.

A brave new world indeed.

“Non negotiable. You’re the priority here Q, finding a replacement for pregnancy leave will be about the end of me on top of everything else, so just make sure you don’t decide to go live the quiet life in the country somewhere after its over.” Of course, Mallory couldn’t threaten all that much, but the 00 recruitment stress appeared to be fuelling him. Q however, had gone pale at the very idea.

“Relax M, I won’t be stealing your quartermaster away to Suffolk.” Q had the grace to shudder.

“God forbid.”

“I’ll hold you both to that. I’ll be kept updated on this.” He ordered sharply, Q nodded almost imperceptibly, but instantly, and M seemed to take it for his word. “Good, look after him Bond.” With the final word M sat back and returned to the report he’d been reading. “Take the downtime to catch up on your paper work.”

Both recognised the dismissal. James automatically helped Q, quite unnecessarily, to slip of the desk and walked behind him and to the right in a bodyguard stance as they left the office.

“Well, that went better than expected.” James commented. Q glanced at him as he pressed the button for the lift.

“You don’t have to, you know, give up your job just because I’m maybe-pregnant…” James’ gaze snapped to Q. He could easily read the reluctance in his omega’s eyes, but it was hidden under a veil of stoicism. “I know you need it as much as I do mine.” The lift arrived without them noticing.

“What makes you think I’d want to be anywhere but with you?” He demanded. Q snorted gracelessly and turned into the lift, James followed, confused as the omega stuffed his hands in his pockets and stared, trying very hard not to glare, at the wall.

“What? Q.” the rough sigh let James know he was slightly in for it.

“I find it rather piss poor of an excuse that you’d happily give up everything you love just for the sake of watching me get fatter… Or maybe its simply offense that pregnancy brings out the ‘stay at home’ gene in alphas. As if we omegas get pregnant just to chain you to the kitchen.” James couldn’t hide his frown.

“Is that what you think?” Q turned on him with such ferocity that James stiffened into his threat-defence alertness.

“You wouldn’t have avoided missions if I’d asked when I wasn’t potentially-pregnant so is it just the need to protect the next generation and your own genes or simply some sense of duty for pregnancy weakened omegas? Because I can assure you I’d die just as much from grief whether you were killed on a mission before or after having a child. It does make one feel rather second rate to an embryo to be perfectly honest.”

The venom in Q’s words stung around the lift as if he emitted it. They stared at each other, James in shock and Q in frustration until the lift dinged and seemed to snap Q out of it. The omega looked slightly sick.

“Oh God,” He reached to cover his face in his hands, shaking his head slightly and tugging his hair. “I’m sorry, James, that was appalling.” The alpha managed to shake off his stress, but Q coiled away when he reached for him.

“Q,”

“Do I get to blame hormones yet?” Q hedged, nervously, spreading his fingers to peer out from behind them hopefully, regretfully. James stepped close and removed his hands, able to scent the circular stress on his mate.

“Only if you admit and accept that you’re pregnant.” Q’s small whine of fret and fear clarified the situation for James. Without a word he engulfed the slighter man into his arms, tucking Q’s head into his shoulder and holding the back of his neck with a firm, grounding pressure.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t apologise. I wasn’t there when you called for me, I wasn’t there when you found out. I wasn’t there for a lot of things.”

“But you were-“

“Shush, it’s the truth, and its nobody’s fault, but I wont miss anything else. I want to be with you.” Q couldn’t argue with the statement, but he tried anyway.

“You’ll be bored.”

“I’ll have you, and all of MI6 to play with, I’m sure they can find something mildly dangerous for me to occupy myself with.” Q huffed something between amusement and annoyance. “And you’re scared.” This time there was a flinch against him that was undeniable. “And I don’t care that you are, I’m not, not yet anyway, but I probably will be, and it’s fine if you are. I’ve got you, Q, we can be scared together.” Q tried to fight out his arms slightly, but there wasn’t much heart in it even if that would make a difference.

“You’re making me feel stupid.” James broke away from Q and held his face tightly.

“You, are not stupid. Its normal to be scared, it’s a big thing, even normal people get scared by children, they’re very scary.” Q laughed a bit, looking away in embarrassment. “Lets convince you you’re pregnant first, and worry about the rest later, alright?”

“You must think I’m evil, saying those things. I don’t mean them, or I don’t think I do. If being pregnant gets me a way out of saying stupid things maybe it’s a perk.” James huffed a short laugh.

“In the meantime, I can think of something else to get you to relax.”

“What-“ Before Q could protest James pulled him from the lift doors and through the Q branch hallway into the quartermaster’s office.

“James we cant! No, not at work!” Q protested as the agent tore the blanket off the futon-mattress that had remained in the corner of Q’s office after the disastrous mate-call heat and subsequent daily exhaustion. Bond scooped up the omega and dropped him gently on the bed before Q could work out what had happened.

“Bloody unprofessional double oh seven-“

“Feel free to reprimand me later.” James said evilly gleefully before rolling Q over, tugging up his tops and proceeding to dig his thumbs into the knotted muscles on Q’s shoulders.

“Oooh, oh damn you James.” Q cursed as his body folded under the massage.

“What did you think I was going to do? Molest you in the middle of MI6? Not nearly as innocent as you look quartermaster.”

“As you well know you…uuhhhh God your hands!” James could have purred at the praise and continued his ministrations quite contentedly.

“You relax, spend a nice day snooping through Mallory’s doctor’s electronic life, I’ll do some light stalking, and we’ll compare notes in the evening. Deal?”

“Deal, just don’t stop.” Q moaned. James decided to store the sound in his mind forever, rather than let his libido act on it now. There would be time… after he’d convinced Q he was pregnant and asked the doctor certain…questions. Very important questions.

“Your wish is my command, Q.” By the more relaxed laugh underneath him, James could tell that Q had missed and needed this contact, especially with the stress of the last week or so.

And James was someone who really didn’t mind fulfilling his tactile desires and being able to be so attentive to his mate. It was no lie that James enjoyed a sensual life, and he found Q exquisite, there weren’t enough hours in the day to spend together all the ways he wanted.

At the end of his massage, James rolled a sleepy Q over and spent a moment rubbing gentle soothing circles onto his stomach before bending to kiss it, and then heading up to capture his omega’s lips. The kiss was just barely work-appropriate.

“Feeling better?” Q hummed contentedly and cracked an eye open, smiling.

“Smug bastard.” James smirked. “Thank you.” He rubbed noses sweetly before burying his face in Q’s neck and inhaling.

“See you soon, love.” Q sat up with him.

“Please don’t get caught, or scare away M’s doctor.” James chortled and pulled Q to his feet.

“You do your job and let me do mine. And get something to eat.” Then he patted Q’s belly.

“Don’t forget to feed the blastocyst.”

“If you so much as dare say I’m eating for two I’ll program your gun to play ‘call me maybe’ whenever you fire it.”

“Duly noted.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry there wasn't as much 'baby' content in this chapter, I was getting everything caught up. There will be much more to follow. If you have any suggestions feel free to deposits them below.  
> Thanks for reading and the amazing comments and kudos, hope you were tickled the right way n_n


	3. H0: The Quartermaster has nothing to worry about; H1: The Quartermaster has subconscious things to worry about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I meant to get this up yesterday, but snags happened!  
> Anyway, for your information, or disregard: in my mind Dr. Darcy has the appearance of James D'Arcy, in case you need a reference.  
> Thanks for the support so far and enjoy...

Q was not looking forward to meeting the doctor. Doctor R. Darcy, apparently. A very old fashioned surname, although James had informed him that the man was somewhere between them in age.

Nobody particularly enjoyed the doctors as far as Q was concerned, but needs must. It didn’t help that he was still nervous to the point of mild insanity about the whole situation.

James was steady and calm, damn him.

“Its only for a blood test Q.”

“Results can be faked.” James appeared to find his paranoia amusing or worse, adorable. Q personally thought that was a little unfair considering how he hadn’t argued with the alpha’s own paranoia throughout their relationship.

“Lets just see it through, shall we?” Q huffed but steadied himself. James had stalked their doctor for two days and found nothing that displeased him or threw up caution. Q had found a history of a workaholic with a small family and glowing references and patient care surveys, appraisals which spoke highly of him… And he had a kind face. Something Q knew he shouldn’t base anything on, but apparently it was simply going to be a factor.

Together the assassin and quartermaster entered the hospital, reported to the clinic, and were surrounded by normalcy.

Q froze and James, ever the professional, had to guide him towards a seat. The only sign of the alpha’s nerves were in the corner seat beside the ground floor window that he chose.

The room was full of pregnant people. And children. Instantly it sent the hairs on Q’s neck standing up.

“Easy love.”

“Don’t pretend you’re any less uncomfortable than I am.” James sniffed slightly and went to hold Q’s arm in a hold both comforting and protective.

Tired betas, swollen omegas, alpha and beta partners present for only half the room, some looking spare. Occasionally there was a glowing individual, someone who looked vaguely nauseous, a proud mate, and one that looked like they were about to suffer a heart attack.

“Dear God. Welcome to reality.” James muttered next to him, sounding mildly horrified. Q couldn’t tell if it was pup sickness or fright, but when nausea gripped at his guts and twisted them all the way up his throat he lurched to his feet unsteadily and began making a wobbly b-line for the gloriously welcoming sign that promised a toilet.

“Mr and Mr Black? The doctor will see you now.” Q wouldn’t have noticed their alias being called but James’ hand appeared over the small of his back and began guiding him towards where a nurse beckoned them.

“N-no James, the toilet-“

“We need to get this over with. Now.” James’ slightly desperate tone had Q submitting, stomach roiling and head rushing as they walked down the narrowing corridor. James could evidently tell he was wavering from side to side.

“Don’t faint on me.”

“Wont.” Q bit out to his mate’s soft request. Before long the nurse smiled them into a room, and as Q took one look beyond their rising doctor’s welcoming expression and to the bed and equipment laid out, apparently that was it.

It was with no small humiliation on Q’s part that he spent the first ten minutes of his first pre-natal clinic on his knees, throwing up in doctor Darcy’s bin.

James, who had managed to escape seeing the worst of Q’s morning sickness, was alarmed and beside him, blocking him safely into the corner and clearly keeping one eye on the doctor, one on soothing his mate.

“S-sorry.” Q spluttered out as the attack ended, voice both resigned and frustrated. There was a kind, lilting voice from the doctor.

“Not at all, happens more often than you think really, and I’m very grateful you managed to aim for the bin.” James chuffed a breath of laughter, hand still rubbing Q’s back. Gradually the quartermaster could sit back, gulping down some air to chase away the remaining dizziness. The doctor passed over some water in a plastic cup.

“Thank you.” Q muttered, washing his mouth out before nodding to James.

“You alright?”

“Fine, for now.” James frowned a bit and helped him to his feet.

Together they took seats opposite the doctor. Q could feel James’ hovering even though he sat calm and affirmative in his own seat. Q himself was fighting the urge to sink through the floor, or locate the security cameras so that he could wipe them clean of that embarrassing display. He was more comforted by James’ authoritative presence than he thought was probably acceptable given the normalcy of their surroundings.

“So, I take it that you two are looking for both some information as well as confirmation today?”

“Yes that’s right.” James supplied, Q was grateful for the save, because the word ‘confirmation’ twisted his insides again. Determined to do better, he sat straighter.

“Excellent, well, I think I can help you with that now if you’d like.” Q and James exchanged a look, before glancing back to the doctor.

“You wouldn’t need to wait for lab results from a blood test?” Dr. Darcy smiled.

“If you are pregnant I would need to take some blood for hormones, your immune systems and certain infections and conditions to look out for, and do a physical exam, but I thought we’d start with an ultrasound to see if we can instantly confirm pregnancy and how far along you are.”

Q felt a little pale, but nodded anyway and stood when the doctor indicated.

“If you’d please lie down on the bed here, Mr Black.” Q did, feeling a little foolish, and nervous, and eyeing the ultrasound screen, James came to stand beside him without being asked, also watching the monitor as well as the doctor.

“Pull your top up for me, and if you wouldn’t mind undoing the button on your trousers please.” Q did as requested without fumbling. Having steady hands despite stressful situations was part of his job. He felt James tense imperceptibly at the fractional amount of skin revealed beneath the omega’s trousers. “Thank you, this might feel a little cool.”

The doctor flicked on the monitor and finished his bustling to squeeze some cool gel onto Q’s belly before rubbing it with a wand. Q took only a moment to watch the movement, the slick slide of the plastic searching against his skin in a strangely probing way, before scrutinising the monitor.

James’ hand found his as all three occupants of the room peered at the grainy looking image. Q rather hoped that the reality was more comfortable looking than this scraped picture. Certainly he wouldn’t want to set up camp there for eight to nine months.

“Excellent. From six weeks on an embryo will grow at about one millimetre per day, so by that I can ascertain how far along you are once I’ve located for you…” Q inhaled a bit as the doctor relayed this info and did something to the screen. Q could crack a computer no problem but he had no clue what he was looking at… and that seemed like a lot of growing… surely the thing would just burst out of him if it kept that up.

“That’s more than I expected.” James commented in a calmer manner, but his hand was tight on Q’s.

“Yes, they’re very busy at this stage, aha!” Q lurched forwards a bit, James leaned closer. “Here you are, I can now confirm that you are… six weeks and… three days pregnant.” Q’s stomach dropped out from the floor with a sharp breath out. “And this is your embryo.”

A small, tiny, miniscule black blob.

Q didn’t know what he was feeling as he stared at the screen, and he didn’t know whether it was his hand trembling or James’.

“…It’s a bit small.” He chocked out, finally. Their doctor smiled.

“Yes, not even a blueberry yet. And…yes, that flickering at the bottom of the screen is the heartbeat. Would you like to hear it?” Q couldn’t answer, though his eyes flashed up, James managed to growl out a strained ‘yes’. There was a smile, and a button flick, and the weird pulsing beat of a heart thudded rhythmically through the room, echoing in a strange manner. Q sat frozen, staring at the screen, ears in overdrive.

“It’s a bit fast.” He nearly whispered, sounding slightly strangled, James’ hand tightened on his own. Q could see another reassuring smile from the doctor out the corner of his eye.

“Well, it’s a very small heart, its currently beating at-“

“One hundred fifty two beats per minute.” Q rattled off quickly. He may be no doctor, but he could do the mathematics for a heartbeat with ease.

“…Yes, exactly.” The man sounded both surprised and impressed, and offered another smile before turning to give them some privacy whilst still holding the plastic to Q’s belly. Q stared at the screen and clutched James’ hand.

He couldn’t really deny it any longer… that heartbeat sounded quite eager too.

‘Little fighter’ Q thought, impressed and a little dizzy ‘must be your father in you’, a smile began to catch and spread at the corners of his mouth, he turned to James a bit.

“So, pregnant…” James tore his eyes form the monitor, and were they a little wet, or was the light hitting them? The look his mate sent him made Q’s own heart flutter a bit. Love and desire and something like admiration. He watched, a little gobsmacked, as James bent down beside him and looked into his eyes.

“You’re amazing.” Q’s breath caught a bit until his alpha kissed him, soft but deep and powerful. They broke apart after not too long, aware of being in public, and Q pushed James a little, embarrassed but smiling, feeling his own eyes prickle a bit. But he was fine with that; from now on he could blame hormones for everything.

“Hush, its just as much your fault as mine.” James grinned and straightened, running a hand a bit too gently through Q’s hair for the teasing nature of his words.

“Aren’t we clever miscreants then. I’d say that’s quite an achievement… Maybe I should put it on my CV.”

Q’s burst into laughter was also the fault of hormones. It just was.

 

-00Q00-

 

The ‘Black’s first prenatal visit was going well. James watched as Q went through a physical exam, measurements and the like, and was subjected to rather invasive and uncomfortable probing. The alpha was sure that no one should be poking things around that area unless it was him, and also that he would have bothered to make it a lot more pleasurable.

Q’s blood was taken, James didn’t enjoy seeing it drawn when his mate winced, but fortunately he was still riding the high of the ultrasound enough to let it pass without more than a growl. Darcy finished up rather quickly after that. Of course the doctor was used to dealing with alphas, but James rather suspected that there was something a bit raw and dangerous and unprecedented in his own nature that would make even the sturdiest of men take caution.

To the beta’s credit he remained calm, simply a bit warier, a bit gentler in his already careful handling of Q.

“And I’ll need a urine sample as well please.” Q took the presented cup with a quirked eyebrow.

“At least that shouldn’t be difficult to accomplish.” He muttered, James smirked and followed Q to the bathroom; he waited outside for privacy’s sake, but as always whenever outside MI6 with the omega, he was aware that the quartermaster as well as his mate was under his protection. After they’d returned to the room and deposited their sample with the nurse, the doctor gestured to the seats again and took out his notes.

“Right just a few questions left from me, and then feel free to ask me anything that’s been on your mind.” Their doctor was very smiley.

Medical histories, thankfully nothing was asked about gun shot wounds or the like. Both of them were queried on alcohol and smoking habits pre-conception. Of course Q wasn’t drinking any alcohol now, and it was only a hell of a day at work that would drive him to a (now forbidden) cigarette.

“Can I drink tea?” Q burst out with, rather desperately.

“Good God yes. Thousands of pregnant Brits through the decades have survived on little else. But do try not to drink too much.” Q’s face turned contemplative for a moment, eyes flickering in a familiar level of calculation.

“…How much is too much?” Darcy looked slightly concerned, or maybe surprised, James found himself trying not to laugh.

“Try to keep it under five per day?” The man hazarded, sounding a little frightened, Q seemed to accept this with slight reluctance.

“There goes the work flow… what about coffee?”

“Again, yes, but control it, try to keep it to one or two cups at most.”

“What about sex?” James supplied, ignoring Q’s slightly embarrassed and flustered squawk of his mate’s name. He knew all too well about his omega’s cravings. Now it was time to get to the important questions.

The doctor reassured them swiftly and thoroughly that sex was in no way dangerous, although if they noticed any changes it should be brought up with him in another visit, to keep any toys they used clean and to steer clear of any particularly rough play. They were out the door not long after that, with another appointment booked in four weeks unless need arose for anything sooner.

They walked to their inconspicuous and frankly boring car in silence, but when Q uncharacteristically reached for James’ hand he held it securely and without fanfare, sweeping his thumb over thin skin and knuckles simply because he could.

His heart rate was slightly fast, and he found similar in Q’s pulse, but it was only when they got into the car that the men turned to each other, and broke out into grins.

“Bloody hell, Q.” Q laughed silently and shook his head.

“Imagine that… god.” He scrubbed hands under his glasses and over his face, but was still smiling. James reached out, impulsively, and tangled his fingers into Q’s malleable hair, tugging the omega into a kiss where their tongues twined for a bit.

“We’re going to be parents… we’re going to have a child…” Even saying it would take some getting used to, Q shuddered, still laughing, but shook his head and held up his hands in a plea.

“No, don’t, I don’t think I can even comprehend that yet.” His changeable eyes lighted back on James’ blues, sticking rather than flicking around, as they were so prone to do, in a moment of calm. Q’s smile dampened down a bit to a more relaxed look of happiness, rather than excitement. “I’m trying to think of something to say that isn’t going to be sappy, though I suppose I could blame hormones now, I’d rather not.” James grinned, possibly looking mutated somewhere between manic and besotted.

“Permission to be sappy granted. Though I’m sure I can occupy your mouth if it worries you that much.” Q laughed softly through the kisses James pressed to his lips, and eventually fell forwards to nuzzle into the alpha’s neck. James growled a little in pleasure at the deep huff of his scent and tingling swipe of tongue over skin.

“We’re going to be fine, love. We’ll get used to it. Can’t be any more dangerous than half the stuff we’ve both done before.” Q sniggered and smacked James on the chest slightly, but ended up curling his fingers there.

“I don’t think it’s entirely normal to weigh up having a child alongside terrorism and assassination… Then again, the level of responsibility is similar…” James pulled Q back and fixed him with a stern look.

“If you’re thinking of making a spreadsheet for this…” Q squirmed guiltily and attempted a winning smile.

“Christ, you’ve already done one haven’t you.”

“Its not as bad as you think!”

“I’m never leaving you alone again. Clearly it puts your sanity at risk.”

“Oh very funny Bond.” James grinned and pulled out before slinging an arm around Q’s shoulders, squeezing gently in pride.

 

-00Q00-

 

Q was having a perfectly normal meal at his desk, Silva trapped in the code-spun cage beside him and only occasionally turning into the skull that scuppered his systems.

“Look out look out, clever boy.” Silva parroted. Q looked up, and there was Sherlock, John Watson looking mildly apologetic and concerned behind him…

Q was sure they hadn’t met, but no matter, because Sherlock had his thinking face on.

“Why can’t you see it Watson? Oh it must be so nice being normal, there!” Sherlock pointed at Q violently, who frowned, he had been playing minesweeper to help James on a mission and really couldn’t be interrupted right now.

“You see, sweat breaking out on the brow, could be heat, could be stress, but as his glasses are reflecting minesweeper and the temperature is cold I think we can safely rule out those. Now, his clothes, bigger, have to be for the size of his stomach, but clearly brought in the mind of comfort and easy removal. Calendar on the wall, days counting down not to an ‘X’ but to the phrase ‘D-Day’… Rather commonly misused within people of the secret service for all manner of amusing means but I think we can safely deduce here that the ‘D’ stands for ‘Due’, Due-Day. Now his hands, slight tremor, eyes squinting but he’s already wearing glasses so he can obviously see just fine and his command of the English vocabulary is quite sufficient so no problems understanding what I’m saying. Finally his scent, not quite a warning call of hurt but something close and urgent, and his chair, wet patch along with the seat of his trousers. So, obviously he’s either in heat, incontinent or, much more likely given the other evidence-“

“In labour!” Exclaimed Dr. Darcy, who was still smiling his comforting smile.

“What!” Q shouted, bolting to his feet and swaying because his stomach was huge and wriggling and bigger than his own desk. “Oh my God-“

“Quick, somebody get me a gurney, stat! Doctor, help me prepare him.” Watson commanded with authority, heading towards Q. The omega took a step back and excruciating pain overwhelmed him as his hips cracked and snapped out of place, sending him tumbling to the floor amidst Silva’s skull-head cackling.

“Oh too late!” Sherlock announced, cheerfully, looking dually excited and interested, a creepy combination on his brother. “His pelvis has already dislocated!”

“No! I can’t be, I only just had the first ultrasound!” Q protested desperately. “It can’t have grown that fast!”

“Yes, they are very busy at this age aren’t they?” Dr. Darcy smiled at him.

“Too late too late-“ Parroted Silva’s skull in the background.

“No, n-no! James! I need James!”

“Oh for God’s sake Aster, this is hardly the place to cause such a scene.” Mycroft condemned, looking disapproving.

“But I’m not ready!” Q shouted, panic and tears choking his voice. “This is ridiculous-“

“Now now clever boy, all that water breaking has to mean the logical conclusion correct?” Q’s horrified eyes saw the skull talking on his now bare stomach. Mycroft swiped it off with his umbrella.

“Do lets get on with it, I have a meeting with the secretary of state at five.”

“But James isn’t-”

“Didn’t you get the memo?” M announced; frowning over Q with a cigarette in his hand that Q craved with his entire agonised being. “He’s been detained in Morocco, presumed out of contact though he could just as easily be dead or MIA, after all you were on maternity leave and couldn’t supervise the mission. Who knows what could have happened!”

“No! But I wasn’t, I wouldn’t-“

“Spread your legs Mr. Holmes, there’s a good chap.” Watson.

“Don’t worry, you can drink six cups of tea once its out of you Mr. Black!” Darcy.

“How does it feel Aster? Can I conduct the autopsy if it kills you?” Sherlock.

“I want JAMES!” Q sobbed and struggled, fought. Hit a grunting body and dropped with a scream like falling-

“Q!” With a thud Q hit the ground beside the bed, trapped in blankets and hearing James scramble over to him as he gasped for breath, panting, sweating, shaking.

Frightened nausea rose up in him as his head spun.

“Oh God.” Q ripped his way out of the duvet and staggered blindly to the bathroom, clutching his mouth until the safe-haven of the toilet presented himself and he violently parted ways with the supper James had made for him, hunched over and white-knuckled.

“Q, Jesus Christ.” James hit the lights and slid down beside him and Q found his mate’s strong hands on him incredibly soothing. Grounding. He hated when he remembered dreams, they were always so convoluted and irrational. But the fear was real enough.

It took a few minutes with his alpha shushing and soothing him before the attack ended and Q rested his head with a flopping thud against the porcelain.

“Done?” James asked, fingers running firmly through his hair to massage his scalp, thumb rubbing behind his ear with a gentling motion tried and practiced from the omega’s frequent headaches. Q nodded, weakly, and allowed James to pull him to his feet submissively, happy to lean heavily on his alpha and relishing slightly in the immediate and unwavering support.

“Here, come on, wash it out.” Q gratefully swished his mouth out with the offered water, spiting the putrid taste into the sink. “Do you want to brush?” Q sort of shrugged helplessly, but decided he would probably feel better in the long run, so attempted a grab for the toothbrush but missed, thanks to his vision.

“I’ve got it. Shush.” James gently silenced Q’s weak growling and passed him a toothbrush laden with paste. Q went through the motions with half lidded eyes, still shaking, and felt slightly more human after, but still had to press his hands to his face and breathe out shakily.

“Are you alright?” Q shook his head slightly, and felt James’ guard switch up a notch in both presence and scent. The man pressed a kiss into his messy hair and pulled him close. “Come on, let’s lie down.”

Q let himself be steered back to bed and tucked into James’ protective embrace, curled up and covered in the safety of his mate’s prowess and strength. A few minutes went by silently before Q’s mind had calmed enough for him to talk, exhaustion lagging at him and loosening his tongue.

“I never asked anything about the actual birth process.” He admitted, scrunching his face up and pressing it into James’ chest. “Do you know what happens in it? How the,” Q gulped, “how the bones in the pelvis can dislocate to give more room and- God.”

James said nothing, but held him tighter, inhaling the scent in his hair deeply as if to calm both of them.

“I don’t think I can take that kind of pain…” James’ tightening hands on him told him just what the alpha thought about Q being in any pain.

“So we’ll order a C-Section then. You wont have to feel a thing.” Q shook his head violently.

“Noo.” He dragged out, almost a whine, body shaking.

“No? Why?” James asked, when Q did nothing but go stiff and shivery the alpha gripped the back of Q’s neck and waist, then rolled them all the way over to the other side. The rolling shift in equilibrium served to open Q’s body up on reflex and he clung onto James, wrapping around him like a limpet as soon as he was set down, whining a little, nuzzling into him.

Q didn’t know where James had picked up half these techniques to help him break out of his own mind, but it did make him rather in awe of his mate. The flawless control the man had over his own lethal body, the way he could execute any function in adaptation to Q… it was very sexy and securing all at once.

“Why, Q?” James asked, a bit firmer.

“M-mummy always said that was what went wrong with… So with me she wanted to try… but then they had to cut me out when there was a complication and I was too premature… Operation nearly killed her.” Q’s rather fragmented explanation was delivered into James’ chest tightly. He didn’t particularly care what the alpha thought of him using the term ‘mummy’, although he was acutely aware that they had never talked this deeply into his family before.

James had no family any more, and Q’s was both so dually demented and complex in emotion that he struggled to give more than the basics lest he start ranting. He could easily say that he had two brothers, older, and that their relationships were… difficult. Not difficult as in bad, necessarily just difficult as in complicated to deal with and explain. Q found himself much more at ease without having to explain Sherlock’s quirks and Mycroft’s ties to government.

James stroked his hair gently and kissed his head, shifting them impossibly closer but remaining silent. Q was grateful for that. He struggled to talk about such things and they weren’t anything other than particularly hurtful for him to discuss. The whole dread of the idea of C-Section wasn’t anything other than a foolish superstition, one of the very few he had allowed himself to cultivate from a very small age and had never been able to shake. Logically he understood the ludicracy of fearing such a pain saving operation…

But none of his siblings, or Q himself, ever claimed to be of entirely sound mind, and Q’s inventive and creative streak did lead to him having rather ridiculous imaginative leaps when he wasn’t being distracted by some code or mechanical theory.

“Did you mean what you said, that you’ll be around… for, for a while…” He probed, tentatively, hands tightening on James’ warm back.

“I meant every word. I have you.” James pulled him into some kind of delicious crush zone where his brain became beautifully placid of whirling problems and schematics, codes, leaving only his slightly drifty contentment at being compressed in safe arms.

“I wont leave you.” James assured, and Q believed him, still worried beneath the fatigue, but he nuzzled into his mate’s neck and inhaled his agent’s heady, strong scent until sleep buzzed into his mind.

“I’ve got you, Q.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I snuck in the Holmes bros! (kinda) Heh anyway, it hopefully gives you a sneaky morsel until they get into the story for real.
> 
> I also did some research for the prenatal visit, so hopefully its more or less okay!
> 
> The science for Omega-male labour is based off the fact that women evolved wider pelvises than males after we became bipedal in order to both walk and still give birth. For your info, you might be interested (or bored) to know that all human babies are in fact technically born 'premature', and that carrying a human baby to full development would mean being pregnant for at least a year... and then the baby's head would be too big to fit, and everyone would be exhausted and half starved...  
> Anyway, so, the biology of the male omega: their hips/pelvis are (somehow...) designed to 'dislocate' to allow the baby through, and do so along the sacroiliac joint. It's relatively safe for male omegas (they've evolved to it, after all) but quite painful (as is all birth!) and maybe there's a small percent of individuals where the increased room is not sufficient to allow the baby through... maybe its a big phat baby!  
> After birth, once the (mm yum) afterbirth is passed, the doctor would help relocate the omega's hips and though they might be sore and a bit weak, not too much more so than females. Of course, past a certain number of babies the joints would become damaged (as a female having too many babies might...suffer) and old age makes it a no-go, due to bone fragility, but usually fertility has ceased by then as well. As it stands, male omegas have very strong bone configurations in the hips until the hormones for birth scream go! So after relocation and a slightly unsteady period, recovery is almost always full and the bones more than ready to go again.
> 
> Ahem, so, pseudo-science lesson over, hope you enjoyed and thanks so much for the wonderful comments of joy mongering! n_n


	4. H0: Its all fine, H1 Its not all fine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story has ruined me. I just wrote the fluffiest smut I ever have... If you need to go to the bathroom in the middle to purge yourself of the vanilla-ness, I can only apologise...  
> I've been wondering what to do about writing sex in this story. I've decided that if it evolves whilst I'm writing, I'll go with it, but I don't expect this to be overly smutty.  
> Let me know if any of you are offended by anything, I shall put the rating up as necessary.
> 
> Whilst this story is ruining my hard core street cred however (yeah, you know its true, gospel.) you beautiful people are about the most inspiring bunch I've encountered, I wish you many happinesses and kittens.  
> Especially kittens.

Bond’s hand aimlessly caressed up and down Q’s spine as the omega lay asleep on him, head tucked safely under the agent’s chin, close to his scent.

Last night Q had unnerved him slightly, bringing to light a piece of information that James cursed himself for forgetting. Of course he knew about male omega pregnancies and vaguely how it occurred… but only as much as any averagely educated person. Being uninformed wasn’t something he took particular joy in.

He’d rather Q didn’t suffer, of course, but evidently there was something his normally so levelheaded quartermaster was afraid of about having an operation instead.

That added a second item to the mental list he had of ‘things Q is afraid of’. Planes and c-sections. Hardly extensive, though both problematic in their own right…

Then there was the other matter that had James slightly on edge, other than the impending pain his mate would have to suffer through. Family.

Bond had never met Q’s family, and could easily enough remember the one and only conversation they’d had about them. Sitting on the sofa, Q curled up against him and playing gently with their entwined fingers. They’d been having a conversation, very necessary, about backgrounds after some salad James had ordered up for them as a side had resulted in Q suffering an allergic reaction. Honestly, avocado?

_“Anything else I should know about?” Bond asked as he came back in from thoroughly disposing of the avocado, bowels, salad box and bag it had come in. Q looked up at him from where he was wheezing slightly on the couch, looking vaguely like he still might vomit any moment. Q tried to speak, but wheezed instead and shook his head._

_The alpha slid beside him and shifted Q until he was curled up, gradually feeling the panic recede of seeing his very new mate stare at him wide eyed before rocketing up from the table to puke up a salad. Along with the severe stomach upset caused, Q’s throat had swelled enough inside to slightly hamper his breathing. Q melted into him tiredly and laced their fingers together, toying with them._

_“You?” The word was rasped, and Bond automatically leaned to grab the soothing cup of warm tea to ease Q’s throat._

_“No,” he replied, replacing the mug and shifting Q closer, arm around his shoulders, “MI6 don’t let you become a field agent if you have allergies.” Q shift-nodded in a way that said he suspected as much. James kissed his head, a touch possessive and a whole heap protective. Q had wound himself deep into Bond’s synapses and neurones as if he had installed himself as cables and wires into the agent’s very body and mind._

_“Really don’t know much about each other do we?” Q rasped out, laughing as much as his throat allowed._

_“We know the important stuff.” Bond supplied, he knew Q’s body mind and soul, how to calm him down, how to rile him up…sort of. Knew that Q was his._

_“Don’t even know your favourite food.” Q continued anyway, voice amused, though he was smiling at James’ previous answer._

_“Chocolate. But tell anyone and I’ll turn my Walther on you.” Q looked up at him, eyes shining with amusement and fondness._

_“Same,” he murmured softly, enamoured, until a shudder made his face contract into seriousness as he gazed into the distance. “And same. The last thing my minions need is an excuse to bring me more sweet things, it’s a wonder I don’t have a permanent sugar high.” Bond nodded, rubbing his thumb over Q’s knuckles._

_“We wouldn’t want that.” He agreed in all seriousness. Q hummed contentedly, tracing idle patterns onto the alpha’s hand. “I prefer dark.”_

_“Ah, I’ll eat any of it. As long as its all chocolate, can’t stand mint or orange getting in the way of good chocolate.”_

_“Agreed… And those truffles stuffed with strawberry-“ They shivered in unison at the thought._

_“God. Agreed.” Bond smiled at the reply as Q laughed, sounding more like himself again and less like an overused squeaky toy._

_“Family?”_

_“Yes…” When there was no further reply Bond shifted enough to look down at him. Q was frowning, leading the agent to do the same._

_“Anyone I need to kill?”_

_“What?” Q asked, startled from his expression slightly. “Oh, no, nothing like that…” He took a breath. “Two brothers, older…” Another pause followed with a subtle, unconscious squirm. “Relationships are… difficult with them. They’re difficult.” The words were slightly floundered and Q waved himself off with a frustrated hand. “I can’t explain it more accurately than that.” Bond nodded and remained silent, feeling Q’s tension slip gradually. It hadn’t been fearful tension, he would recognise frustration too… but there was some sort of lingering uncomfortability or stress linked to talking about these two brothers, maybe stemming from dealing with them. Not dislike, but some unwillingness or confusion on how to talk. Bond could sympathise enough with difficult subjects, he’d spent enough time in psych evaluations to tick the time boxes of half the country._

_“Parents?” Bond asked. “Of course, you know about my history.”_

_“Not the details.” Q replied, voice soft over Bond’s slightly abrasive undertones at any mention of his own history._

_“I probably won’t tell you. Don’t know if I even can.” The alpha admitted, laughing at himself disparagingly, at his own buttons still being pressed after all these years._

_“I don’t mind that, as long as I have you.” It worked like a balm._

_“And your parents?” Bond prompted, only visible reaction to being soothed and grateful in his calmer voice, the heavy, tight pressure he squeezed Q’s shoulder with. That point of pressure that always seemed to work like a switch flicking Q into calm relaxation of the body and mind. The omega took a breath._

_“Both dead, one young, one old, both surprisingly natural… I probably _will_ tell you.” James couldn’t have felt more relaxed at the admission, more rewarded. A few years down the line, who knows how much they’d have synchronised with each other._

_It should have scared him, set off all of his alarms. Instead it prompted a great rolling growl of satisfaction to roll through him like a lion’s purr. A sense of excitement as he pulled Q closer and rolled over to bracket the younger man between him and the couch. Q hummed a bit in satisfaction, an almost smug smile tracing his lips as his arms snaked around Bond’s shoulders._

_“I do think you might be perfect, Mr. Bond. My James.”_

_“For that I’ll cook you dinner.”_

_“Do try not to accidently murder me again, there’s a good chap.” Bond laughed, an honest grin-straining laugh, relaxed, happy, genuine._

_“Since you asked so nicely I dare say I’ll try…” Q smirked up at him, and his gaze softened. “My Q. Mine.”_

_“Always yours.”_

_“Always.”_

James turned to roll Q over and kiss him awake at the fond memory, smirking. That was just about a year and a half ago now, and whilst neither of them had spilled all the secrets of their past yet, Q had let him in on another little snippet last night.

Q wriggled and moaned, both trying to roll over to continue sleeping and keep his connection to James’ mouth. Needless to say it didn’t go very well.

A few minutes of mildly ravaging Q’s body in gentle, teasing presses and strokes to all of the omega’s sensitive spots, without gracing either his growing arousal or between his legs with touch, and Q was awake. Bleary, and glaring slightly balefully at his mate through a ruffled expression, but at least half sitting and awake… As much as Q ever was in the mornings before tea.

“Wakey wakey.” Bond teased with a grin, hovering over Q. The omega threw him a mildly disgusted look and slammed one of his hands into his own eye and hair, rubbing at his face roughly as it to promote stimulation.

Q was always somewhat…violent with himself in the mornings if he didn’t come around naturally. And tended to trip over anything in sight, including his own feet on one occasion, and often walked into furniture and doors.

James always allowed himself to feed his protective streaks, as well as amusement, on the feast that was Q in the mornings.

“You woke me up with that, and you won’t finish? Bloody sadistic, Bond.” Carefully he removed his mate’s rather rough hand from his eyes, and kissed there instead.

“If I did what I wanted to do to you every morning, we’d never get out of bed.” Q frowned cluelessly for several moments, hand dropping to the bed. He was clearly too asleep for innuendos.

“But then we’d never have tea.” He complained, confused. And rubbed his stomach briefly before grabbing James behind the head and bringing the alpha’s face to press into the flat plain of his stomach. Surprise and amusement, along with the knowledge of how defeatable, though undeniably tough, Q was, allowed the movement.

“Say morning to Blasty.” He demanded, vague and rough voiced, petting James’ hair just a shade too heavily to be anything other than barely lucid. It was hard to talk through threatening laughter and the smooth flesh before him, so instead Bond kissed the skin in front of him, licked over Q’s navel, earning a breath of surprise, and pushed the omega’s legs apart.

“James-“ Q gasped as his mate licked at the trace of sweet slick starting to leak between his parted cheeks.

“Waited too long for this. Wanted to claim you since I got back.” With something akin to reverence that easily made early-morning-Q blush and wriggle, James kissed the pucker of his entrance before sucking a bruising, biting kiss into his thigh. Q writhed above him as the alpha braced one of his mate’s legs apart and shifted up to lie over him, fingers of his other hand tracing teasing circles around the shivering entrance.

It had been too long, even if the mission had only been two weeks. The delay to talk to the doctor before they were sure of reaffirming their physical bond had taken its toll on both of them. Q was soon strung like a live wire, panting, arching and clinging to his alpha as Bond’s fingers easily coaxed him wet.

“F-fuck James, stop teasing.” Q could barely pant the words out, and Bond wasn’t far behind himself, growling, barely holding back from rutting against the body beneath him, but a very strong part of him needed to have the complete compliance, Q unable even to form a sentence, wanted to show him the worship that he thought his mate’s incredible body deserved.

“Not teasing, worshiping.” Q shivered against him with a single long breath of ‘fuck’. Fingernails scraped pleasurably into his scalp hard enough for the tremor of almost-pain to slink down James’ spine with a shiver. Q’s head curled up to him, close as they could get together.

“So good, so amazing, growing our baby. God do you know what it does to me, looking at you and knowing that. My gorgeous, sexy, unbelievably smart quartermaster.”

By the time Q was thrusting helplessly against him half laughing, half panting in slight embarrassment at Bond’s doting compliments, he was spread loose and had slick nearly dripping out of him. James knew his Q, couldn’t stand to be given such blatant, sweet affection in public…

But secretly, on very rare occasions, he knew his omega craved the attention and would allow himself to be smothered in endearments. It was a secret pleasure they could both share in. Jobs too harsh, stress too high; once in a while, this was what they needed.

Bond eased himself into Q’s tight, wet heat and groaned in pleasure, feeling the omega stretch around him, panting as he pushed home, clutching onto broad shoulders and laughing out his own need when filled.

“Thank fucking God.” Q huffed, grinning, a little whine in his voice as he wriggled, tested the feel of James buried inside him, keened.

“Perfect.” James muttered, and begun setting up a rhythm that had Q curling against him and bucking back into his thrusts.

“Perfect, perfect,” James repeated with each thrust, hitting Q the way that sent him gasping in ecstasy and rolling his hips sinuously, making them both groan and James’ rhythm falter harder, knot swelling and dragging at his lover. James thrust in hard, mind firing with pleasure, hips snapping to work his knot in and Q’s legs tightened around him, muscles spasming to pull the alpha deeper. Q gasped out a tight, stuttering cry and clenched tight around him, body undulating rhythmically with his own.

Bond held Q tight as he orgasmed, teeth unerringly finding the claim bite and pumping into Q, who was moaning and writhing around deliciously.

Satisfaction and pride swelled within him, and James took a moment to catch his breath before rolling them over, still locked. He bent his knees and eased them up until they were half sitting against the headboard. The position was easier for Q, and less tug for James.

Warm breath smoothed over his neck and Q shifted, only enough to slump more comfortably, face lax and nearly asleep. James thought he’d allow Q the time till they unknotted to rest.

“You should come with a warning.” Murmured Q, lips nudging against Bond’s skin.

“What’s that?”

“Bloody brilliant. Can talk you into an orgasm. Mine.” The omega summed up succinctly, one hand roaming to curl around Bond’s waist and the other stroking idle schematics onto his skin, tracing a trail behind his lips as he pressed kisses along wherever he could easily reach on his mate.

“Might not fit on a tag. No room for the return address.” James advised, reaching to card his hand through Q’s messy hair, angling their eyes to meet.

“Can’t be having that now, can we?” The agent kissed him, licking deeply into Q’s mouth until the smaller man drew back for a breath. “Maybe I could fit it on a key chain somehow… or as a tattoo-“

“Go to sleep Q.” There was a slight huff of amusement, but Q nestled into him none the less, settling into James’ body like a cat.

Half an hour later, Bond carried barely-lucid, refusing-to-wake-up Q into the bathroom and cleaned them both off, thankful for the day off they had been allowed thanks to M knowing of their appointment.

Apparently it was a luxury they were not to get used to.

Q finally roused once James had him dressed and a cup of tea placed under his nose.

“Ah sweet mother of heaven.” Q mumbled, reverently, and James laughed despite himself… until Q spat out the first gulp and hurled away the mug like it had betrayed him, staggering out of the room with his hand pressed to his mouth and an expression of pure grief on his face.

James could put two and two together.

Ten minutes later, he was still trying to coax the quartermaster out of the locked bathroom.

“Come on Q, its not the end of the world.”

“It is! It betrayed me! My life is ruined!” Q wailed, and the sound of crashing had the agent fighting both a smirk and muscles tensing into action. The muffled sounds that followed however…

“Q, are you crying?”

“No!” there was a lengthy pause of heavy doubt from Bond’s end, a thump of towels dropping later, Q replied evasively and aggressively. “It’s the hormones!”

James hid his laughter… just about, sort of.

When Q finally did emerge, James had to spend the day caring for his sulking omega. Apparently the very idea that tea had betrayed him had carved some kind of hopeless void into his soul.

He teased until Q snapped at him that he wouldn’t like it very much if every time he tried to fire his Walther it punched him in the gut. James sobered up pretty quickly after that, not knowing entirely if it was a threat that Q was actually capable of seeing through with some extreme recoil enhancements…

A few blankets, electronics and nausea attacks later, Q’s anger had run out, and he was sleeping on top of Bond on the sofa like a limpet.

James assumed he was forgiven.

 

-00Q00-

 

Q had the joy of returning to work the next day, and whilst he had to endure a rather painful meeting with M again to confirm how far along he was, the omega thoroughly relished getting back to business.

Bond was upstairs in an office catching up on his paper work. Q would have liked to give him a desk in Q Branch to catch up on, but it would be too much of a distraction. James would get excited by the shiny things… and Q would delve into showing them to him, or wanting to curl up with him because he was warm and safe and close.

Really his need for sleep was growing appalling, and that was with getting almost a whole day of it yesterday. Q blamed the lack of tea, feeling its stinging betrayal constantly lurking in the back of his mind. Every desk had to appear to have a steaming mug of his favourite drink on it whilst Q himself was restricted to eating ginger snaps and water like it was going out of fashion.

It was. Rapidly. But at least it had helped quell the nausea. Although when it came to presents from M he really would have preferred a budgetary increase.

Still, it was good to be back at work. Although he still had no idea what, and when, he should tell the office. M seemed to consider his decision to wait until 10 weeks as sensible, and it saved Q from all manner of worry about informing the entirety of MI6, and his family, of his situation for the time being.

M had, however, had the rather grim grace to remind Q of something else to help him worry.

‘Don’t loose the baby, if you can help it. It will destroy Double Oh Seven.’

Wonderful. As if he didn’t have enough to think about, now he was going to spend all of the next eight months worrying about something that could well be beyond his control. Miscarriages happened after all… though the thought made him spend a minute hunched with his arms curled around his stomach, fingers stroking just underneath his shirt as if to chase away the very thought and soothe something that had…

Grown two millimetres since his doctor’s visit.

“Oh shit,” Q breathed, and lurched up to hurry in as dignified a way as he could manage to the toilet. So much for the magical ginger.

Although, whilst it did wonders for pup sickness, Q didn’t think that anything in the world was powerful enough to calm his nature. It was a wonder everyone thought him so steady and infallibly calm. It was much easier to maintain a calm appearance, however, when he wasn’t being thrown by his own biology.

When 002 reported with a crisis in the afternoon, Q managed to slip right back into focus and that honourable state of professional calm that had served him so well thus far.

By the time everything had been somewhat smoothed over, it was past one in the morning and Bond had snuck in unnoticed by the quartermaster.

“Right, you’re clear Double Oh Two, green lights back to England, airplane staff ready to receive. Flight leaves the airport in three hours.”

_“Tell me I’ve got first class sugar. After that, I’m not flying sardine.”_

“Would I do any less? Have some of that champagne you like and let them stitch you up, you’ll deserve it after that if you’ve even brought half the equipment back.”

_“For you, Q, I always do. Over and out.”_

Q hung up the call and dropped his headset back on the desk with a sigh, leaning back in his chair. A couple of his staff clapped him on the back as he disconnected the call with their one remaining female double oh. Large hands slid round his chest from behind and Q tilted his head back to see James standing over him.

“Hello you.” Q greeted, voice soft with fatigue.

“Ready to go home now?” Q frowned.

“You should have left already, what is it, one am?”

“One forty five.”

“Oh.” Q looked back at the clock on his computer and wondered when in the last eleven hours he had sat down. “I should stay, night support, in case she needs-“

“I can stay tonight sir, I only began at six.” Mathew, one of his potential replacements for emergencies, was watching him with a relaxed but unhidden concerned expression. Q felt a slip of defeat wash over him. Up until now he would have been the one staying in for the long hours, going above and beyond to provide excellent communications and services to agents in the field.

Now he was to be usurped by his own underlings and body. No matter the level of their profession, to Q it felt like a huge loss. But he could hardly fight it; right now he’d be useless and probably start drooling on his desk. Besides, James was technically within all rights to drag Q out of here past normal working hours, and he should think on the positives, if he wasn’t needed as much then it would be easier to find a replacement when he went on leave.

But at only six weeks, he’d rather hoped for more control and functioning in his body. Apparently not.

“…Alright then.” Both James and Mathew appeared surprised by his swift, if reluctant, defeat. “Don’t hesitate to call, I’ll have the phone.” Mathew nodded and bid them a hasty goodnight before heading to rally the troops for the shift.

James was looking at him with fractional worry in his gorgeous eyes. Q rather had the urge to sweep it away, feeling incredibly grateful that he had his mate. The agent wouldn’t judge him for his increasing uselessness, he hoped. Leaving Q to judge himself as heavily as he wanted.

“Are you okay?” Came the careful question, asked gently enough that Q realised he must seem quite out of sorts.

“Mmm. Tired, can’t think of a good reason why really.” Q affirmed, and tried to stand only to nearly collapse back down into the chair with his head spinning, James’ hands tightening to catch him with lightning focus.

“Q.” The demanding, worried growl made Q quite glad that his team were having a meeting at the far end of the branch.

“Sorry. Don’t think I can stand.” He managed to get out in a reasonable version of controlled calm. “Bit dizzy, no coordination.”

“Christ.” James had his hands gently easing Q up into a standing position with steady strength. The omega felt frightfully unbalanced for a moment when upright and sagged into James’ hold. “I’m assuming you’ll kick up a fuss if you’re carried.” Bond growled, clearly wanting to do just that.

“I’m fine. I’ll be okay.” Q breathed, but he was feeling increasingly less so by the second, in fact he was feeling an awful lot more like he might-

“I’m going to faint.” He managed, voice tightening, and trying to grip onto James, somehow pull himself back to stable.

“Don’t fight it, just breathe, deep breaths for me Q, chase it away.” James’ voice switched to mission-calm, controlled, in charge. Q whimpered, honestly whimpered, in the middle of the office, and felt his legs sinking.

“I’m going to help you down, and get you some water. Stay with me.”

Q nodded, but it made his head spin and numb till he had to gasp in air. James lowered him as easily as he had lifted him up, depositing the omega back into his chair and grabbing a glass of water to feed him.

“You’re going to be okay Q, I’ve got you.”

Q could only hope that was true, he was finding it incredibly hard to move his tongue enough to swallow, and was heavily aware only of leaning on James’ arm. He settled for flopping his head into the crook of his mate’s elbow and inhaling the deep, safe scent. James’ other hand began to card through his hair with a grounding pressure that helped him feel like he wasn’t about to drift away.

“Breathe Q, keep breathing.”

It was easiest just to follow orders and ignore all the other frightening signals from his body, though as always nausea was his constant companion. Just him and James, just his James, just James and the spinning darkness luring his numb mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks for reading!  
> I know that many of you are looking forward to the 'lock' of the 'Bondlock', but I won't rush it, I hope you can forgive me for that.  
> A) I have a specific time planned for them to show up and  
> B) My first love is 00Q, I don't want the awesomely awesome Sherlock (WATSON! ahem) characters to become the main feature. Already they're referenced quite a lot... but I figure since they're family that's realistic?
> 
> Anyway, had to get that off my chest so that no one gets too disappointed, I hope!
> 
> Oh and yeah, here hehe I had to leave it on a cliff hanger to try and dislodge some of the fluff. It was smooching me, but I'm sure it will creep back and envelop me in the night.
> 
> (If you've read all this, collect for yourself another metaphorical kitten ;D)


	5. H0: Two awfuls make more awful, H1: Two awfuls make one good

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 200 + Kudos PARTY! XD  
> Well, no, the chapter is just normal, but a little longer than usual by accident.  
> Thanks for the amazing feedback everyone n_n

Q wasn’t aware of how long James held him like that, one arm likely trapped beneath Q’s head, but at some point the alpha bent to inhale his scent at the neck and bit him in a grounding kind of way. It felt like no time at all that James was helping him stand again, whispering soothing eases to him when Q whimpered. The movement made him feel funny, and when he tipped over to gag and vomit on the floor there were more voices than just James’ deep growl and tight arms.

He didn’t even feel that sick. His eyes only showed disconnected fuzz and blobs. His ears were cotton stuffed, though James’ tone was coming through at least, if not his words.

When the alpha pulled him into motion Q lolled horribly and was caught up, scooped into strong arms. Q keened at James weakly, clinging to him, feeling dizzy and out of control, numb, shaky. His head rested on his mate’s shoulder and he panted a little when James’ order to breathe meandered through the fog.

He didn’t remember much after that, he was being laid down somewhere, and became mildly panicked at the thought of James’ arms slipping away so he flailed for them, whining to call the man back to him. Compressing, familiar arms wrapped around him and settled him down a bit within the tightness. Being held happily tight helped stop his mind whirring, and James’ scent calmed him, the voice shushing in his ear.

Q fought a bit when one of his arms was untangled free and held by other people, James crushed him again until all he could do was tremble in the various grasps, but his mate was there so it was okay. His alpha could probably defend him from an elephant.

His arm prickled unpleasantly enough that he whined again, jerking into James, who tightened his hold, hand warm and firm on the back of his neck.

James was shifting to lie down next to him, holding him close, breath stirring Q’s hair. That was enough.

-00Q00-

 

Bond’s worry quickly turned to something far more serious when Q couldn’t even stand up. He smelt… off, and James didn’t like it. Attempting to help Q move and get out of there went even worse.

He’d never had Q actually faint on him, but he’d come close a couple of times during his recovery from heat. The fact that the omega actually whimpered for help however, sent warning bells shooting through him violently. Q never allowed himself to be instinctually vocal at work. Never. Swiftly Bond eased him back down, voice calm, knowing not to show his own anxiety and rising heart rate.

He wanted to get Q out of here, to get him lying down and into bed… but now he was wondering if he shouldn’t just call medical. Q couldn’t even drink, he only wanted to lean into James’ arm and breathe shallowly. He wasn’t responding either, but he did at least keep breathing when instructed.

The Q Branch minions of the night shift had noticed, were coming closer. James decided to give Q a while just to breathe and reconnect with his alpha’s scent in case that was enough. Q had often said that it was calming, that he often needed to wear James’ clothes whilst he was away if he was feeling anxious.

‘Curse of the omega.’ He had called it. ‘Now I’ve found you, I need to concrete myself in you every now and then. I think its some form of separation anxiety, even when you’re close if I’m too stressed everything can be overwhelming, I need to smell you.’

James really didn’t want Q to be overwhelmed by anything. He stroked his mate’s head; hoping to soothe him, steady him.

Half an hour later however, Q wasn’t showing any signs of coming around on his own, and the minions had descended. They were keeping a respectful distance, but it was clear from their scents and expressions that they were highly worried for their usually effervescent and unflappable boss.

James was rather beginning to suspect a different sort of play from his omega rather than just tiredness… one he knew only too well.

“When has he last eaten?” He asked the surrounding lab rats, but received only nervous looks and shrugs. They hadn’t been on for Q’s entire shift, of course.

“Dammit Q.” James muttered, rubbing a thumb over Q’s temple and keeping himself firmly together.

Q was prone to doing this. He just didn’t get hungry like normal people. Even for an omega his stamina was ridiculously high for coping without a decent meal, or any meal. All omegas had to be able to survive about a week, average heat length, with precious little of anything, even water, and still be able to crawl out of wherever they’d hid long enough to rehydrate and feed themselves. They weren’t healthy, but they could do it.

However, Q was pregnant. And whilst he evidently still didn’t feel hunger keenly in any way at all, his body needed more nutrition, and rest. James knew Q’s job was stressful, but the omega found it so consuming that he would regularly forget to eat. Apparently, this pregnancy was going to tip the scales in James’ favour. Q had to eat more.

The omega’s ridiculous eating habits were James’ main anxiety when it came to Q. Especially because he could almost understand it, when he was on a high stress mission, he sometimes couldn’t eat at all… although as an alpha he consumed more on average anyway.

“Someone call medical. Tell them I’m bringing Q.” James ordered, and didn’t need to watch to know Q’s loyal minions were rushing to do as bidden.

James bent to sniff at Q’s neck, determining that he didn’t smell unstable enough to warrant a stretcher; especially given the stress it would induce in him to have Q taken out of his arms. He bit, trying to bring Q around, focus him, and just a little desperate to.

The time it took for Q to flicker back to him was agonising, James maintained their contact bite, not drawing blood, but drawing pressure, awareness, for a full ten minutes before Q’s breathing had sped up obediently out of a near sleep-mode.

“I’m going to take you to medical.” James murmured with a confident voice, kissing the bruise on Q’s neck. He got no reply until he lifted Q upright, slowly as to not unbalance him, and received a whimper at the motion, uneasy hands grabbing onto him in a move that was likely subconscious.

“Shh, I’ve got you, its alright, you’re safe.” Q bent elegantly but limply in the middle and vomited onto the floor. James cursed, growling, and held Q tight, safe. The minions were panicking.

Q tended to get nauseous even before pregnancy; it seemed to be one of his reactions to stress. Right now it couldn’t be helping his health, considering he was throwing up from pup sickness anyway.

Whatever it was Q was producing looked horrible. After the attack subsided, James feeling increasingly uneasy because if this was Q reacting to stress, he must be more tired and having been pushing himself harder than James thought. He’d have to have a talk with M.

He eased Q away from the mess and caught the rag doll body easily as it collapsed, anticipating it, lifting Q into the safety of his arms.

Q keened for him. James’ heart clenched.

“Breathe love. I’ve got you.” He was relieved to get a response of panting; though it was clear Q was nearly out of his mind if he couldn’t fight his natural responses to call for James in such base instinctual ways in the middle of their workplace. The alpha wasn’t embarrassed, but he was unnerved somewhat.

He took Q in the lift to medical, silently holding him. The anxious but professional night shift of doctors and nurses were waiting for him with a room already prepared.

“Nutrients, on an IV, fluids.” Bond commanded, he’d had to do this once before, though admittedly Q had still been standing and had been scheduled for it. Now Q was utterly limp until James laid him down, and then he begun the most pathetic attempts to grab that James had ever seen.

His omega’s pleading whine was like a fishing hook snagged into his gut. James stayed distant enough for just long enough to get Q’s flailing arms out of his cardigan and roll his sleeve up, all without his mate really noticing, and then he pulled Q into his chest, encasing him.

“Easy Q, easy.”

Q wriggled loosely till he was tucked up in James’ arms on his side. The doctor waited until Bond nodded to say that Q had calmed down, and then they began extracting the omegas’ arm for an IV. The omega fought it, whining, but James flattened over him, holding him steady, one nurse holding Q’s upper arm and another his lower, holding it steady for the doctor.

Clearly, it was too much for Q who began trembling and panting in his mate’s arms. James held him tight, and tried to steady him when he whined at the IV going in. One of his hands found the back of Q’ neck and massaged firmly. It got Q relaxed enough to complete the procedure.

The doctor tidied up slowly as the nurses filed out.

“He’s not too malnourished, he should be back on his feet with a single dose, maybe a bit woozy. It’s very important to his health that he eats regular meals.” James nodded, and glared until the doctor took the hint and got out.

The agent slid into the bed beside Q, who managed to come round for long enough to latch weakly onto James with all his limpet limbs. The alpha moved the arm containing the IV carefully and huddled Q close, breathing in the scent of his hair.

He’d arrange alarms to go off throughout the whole of MI6 if he had to, and employ a personal handmaid to chase down Q at every mealtime. He knew Q would eat if food were put in front of him, because never once had he turned up a meal James had brought him at work, or home.

Since he was apparently in the country for the duration of the time being, James decided to set himself the challenge, only really trusting himself to feed Q sufficiently, and make sure he didn’t get distracted and forget to eat. Moneypenny might be another option when she returned from her expensive holiday.

They’d get through it.

-00Q00-

“You forgot to eat Q.” Q looked up balefully from the bed, where he’d obediently remained after James deposited him there, careful not to antagonise the tension in his alpha. It was entirely his own fault after all, and he was pretty sure that he’d made quite the fool of himself. Everything was vaguely muddled, but he had the distinct impression of throwing up in the middle of Q branch.

“I know. I’m sorry.” James came back in with a frown and a sandwich.

“If I give you this, are you going to throw it up?” Q shook his head sorrowfully, hoping that Blasty was game for playing along this time. Little blighter.

Warily he was given the sandwich, which was delicious, as was all of James’ cooking, especially when compared to Q’s own rather sporadic attempts.

Miraculously, it seemed not to unsettle anything. Q hummed gratefully and James sighed with relief, slumping down beside Q and picking up the schematic papers he’d been drawing on.

“What’s in it, I don’t even feel ill.” Q asked, attempting to tug the bread away from the filling to identify it, but gave up, eating it instead.

“Things that shouldn’t make you sick… Mallory gave me a book.” James grimaced as if the memory was distinctly awkward. Q didn’t doubt it, considering his own gingery gift had been somewhat disconcerting.

“He does seem rather invested doesn’t he?” Q mused, reaching to grab the cup of ginger tea that James had produced from nowhere. It wasn’t as good as real tea, but it at least served to fill his obsession of drinking warm flavoured water… a little.

“Maybe he’s looking to get first dibs on our athletic genius baby.”

“God don’t joke.” Q grimaced. “Personally I hope their a perfectly run of the mill beta with enough skill to be proud of their achievements but not enough to warrant any unsavoury attention… maybe an accountant, or an artist, a little poor but unwaveringly happy artist.” James looked at him, astonished, making Q feel a little apprehensive that he’d said the wrong thing. “What?”

“That’s the first time you’ve said anything about having an actual child without blanching.” Q supposed he was right, and blushed a bit when James stroked his stomach, curling their bodies closer till the agent was on his side, body leaning into Q’s comfortably.

“I’d like them to show some bloody respect. Kids these days are horrific. That last mission I was on in Malta no less than three drunken lads attempted to pick a fight with whoever was closest to them for no good reason, and a young lady threw up over the bonnet of somebody else’s car without even apologising. Ruddy charming that was.” Q laughed, and whilst thinking he might have to wait a bit longer for James’ more honest answer, enjoyed the conversation. It was easy enough, and about as much ‘too far in the future to contemplate’ as he could deal with.

“I think that will be largely down to us in the end, rather than genetics.” Q finished off his sandwich before continuing warningly. “Although, you should know that I spent a large majority of my childhood actively hiding away from my family and causing scares… not that I was any worse than Sherlock but I did seem to have a knack for loosing track of time, meals.”

James’ hand on his stomach twitched fractionally, the rest of him stiffening almost imperceptibly.

“What?” Q hedged, thinking he’d gone wrong again somewhere.

“Nothing… Whose Sherlock?” Q went a little wide-eyed.

“Oh, I never told you their names? Probably not. Sherlock is my middle brother.” James turned to frown at him, Q shifted uneasily.

“Not that Sherlock who’s the detective? Gets in the papers?” He felt itchy.

“Yes.” Q answered shortly, and downed his tea. Might as well bite the bullet whilst he was here. “Oldest of us is called Mycroft.”

“…Holmes.”

“Yes, Holmes.”

“…Huh.” James took his hand off Q and rolled onto his back slightly, expression closed and thoughtful. Q knew he didn’t mean it, knew James couldn’t mean anything by it, didn’t even really know who they were. The papers didn’t give any indication of personality and he didn’t expect James would be a big reader of John Watson’s blog… but it still made his toes curl unpleasantly in tension.

“James?”

“Hmm?”

“You’re either broken or scaring me a little.” Q stumbled out, too tired to play it coy. The agent pulled himself back together in moments, turning to Q with a sheepish smile.

“Sorry, training’s hard wired in, I get names and I have to collate my knowledge of the person.” Q still eyed him nervously.

“They're not a mark…”

“I know, I know.” James sat up to touch him but Q shifted slightly away, frowning, wound up, a little anxious in a way that made him want to do something, though he couldn’t think why. “Q, easy, just relax, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Q relented. He was still tired, and pregnant, and would blame that for his overreaction if pressed. Truthfully he didn’t quite know what always made him so tense about his own family, maybe he was just remembering the smarting rows that, as the youngest and an omega, had driven him into hiding and distress rather than become involved. Maybe he was nervous that James might try to shoot Sherlock simply because he could be an annoying git, his mate probably wouldn’t appreciate his brother’s visual assessment and third degree… and Mycroft… Well, Q was sure everybody wanted to shoot his oldest brother at least a little bit.

Maybe he was just nervous to tell them he was pregnant. It was hardly a family where congratulations would be the first words. Q was glad he had always been treated with something like protectiveness and respect, or at least some form of fondness. But he did find his brothers trying on his unsocial nature.

Q liked calm, and being in control, he liked people he could hold a conversation with, who weren’t always trying to one up you for every interaction as if there were a not so subtle power play in check… and not in the playful way he and Bond had first bantered and tested each other out. The omega didn’t like being dragged into the middle of every family fight.

Maybe Q just didn’t like the stress; love his brothers though he did. They just managed to make life difficult for themselves.

“Sorry.” Q mumbled, and turned into Bond, inhaling him. “I’ve never been particularly good at dealing with them. Neither of them think in straight patterns, We’re all too different, though the same sometimes I s’pose. They never seem to let go either.”

James smoothed over Q’s hair and kissed him.

“Its fine Q.” He assured, levelly. “Besides, as we only have one side of the family to meet, they might as well be bat shit crazy enough for two.” Q burst out laughing and fixed James with an amused smirk.

“I think you’re forgetting dear old Granddaddy M?”

“No Q. Just no.”

 

-00Q00-

 

Upon their return to work the next day, Bond took Q firmly to M’s office, apparently the man had been informed all about Q’s recent entanglement with medical, and was none too happy about it.

Q felt soundly chastised by the end of it, and was rubbing his stomach protectively as all the risks of not eating were detailed to him. He didn’t argue, and would have blamed pregnancy except that it was pure guilt. Instead he kept his head ducked, eyes up on M’s face to show he was listening, and surrendered to the alpha’s new rules.

When he stumbled out of the office, Bond came to him, frowning, and held him upright as Q slumped miserably.

“Sorry, been a bit of a git haven’t I…” Q trailed off, finding it hard to meet his mate’s eyes. He must have been driving the man insane. If only he didn’t get so damn distracted. He always had, curse of his mind, miles away and blanketed from his body with a lifetime of ignoring it. Helped him remain calm under pressure, but rather knocked him on his arse on occasion. James’ hand tilted his chin up firmly, and Q met his eyes sorrowfully.

“I don’t want you to feel bad, just treat yourself better.”

“I’ll try.” Q agreed weakly, James frowned at him, and ducked till he was sweetly kissing Q’s neck. The alpha lowering himself somewhat helped Q calm down from the natural subservience to authority. He never had a particularly strong desire to bend to anyone, but he was exhausted with it all and hadn’t had such a bollocking from an alpha since his dad had caught him playing with the kitchen knives, plug sockets and smouldering iron in an attempt to make an electric-shock blade.

“I’m here to help you, tell me what you need, mate.” The word had him near-whispering a moan.

“Just…help me not screw this up. I d-don’t want to loose… don’t want anything to happen. But I’m not good at this Bond, I don’t nurture, I don’t know what to do.” Bond pressed into his neck heavily and breathed in his scent, it made Q shiver a little, pleasantly.

“You managed with me. Make sure I go to those damn vampires down in medical, sleep, eat… Just try to go with it when I do the same for you, I’m not promising I’ll be wonderful either.” Q sighed in unmitigated relief.

“Can we be awful together?”

“Absolutely.”

“And that will cancel each other’s awfulness out?”

“Definitely.”

“I love you.” Q breathed out in a rush, kissing James’ hair and running a hand through it briefly. James hummed, pleased.

“Love you too, love.” Bond replied, and nipped at Q’s claiming mark before straightening with a grin. “I’ll be down at lunch.” Q nodded, but groaned as he pulled away, casting his eyes to the ceiling and moving down the corridor.

“And I have to leave no later than six every day, unless there’s an emergency. And weekends off… I won’t know what to do with myself.” James laughed at him gently.

“That’s another thing we can do together then.” Q shot him a look of mock surprise.

“Oh? You mean like a normal couple doing things together?”

“Mm. Scarily novel isn’t it?”

“Terrifying.”

 

-00Q00-

 

Their first official days on Q’s new rules passed to the weekend with a rapidity that took Bond by surprise. Every day he would eat breakfast with Q, a notoriously difficult meal for the omega, because at least morning sickness seemed slightly stronger in the mornings, and he had no tea. The rather terrifying book Mallory had given Bond suggested smaller meals more often for Q, so Bond did just that, coming down to Q branch with bits and pieces every now and then before and after lunch.

Of course, if Q was busy, as he usually was, James would deposit the snacks for a minion to move to the omega’s desk, having learned that there was an 80% chance they’d be eaten on automatic in an attempt to de-clutter the surface.

Q’s domain was a ship under tight command after all, and Bond was aware that he could be a distraction.

If Q was tinkering, experimenting –now in full protective gear- or simply doing low-stress computer tasks, Bond would take the time to bask in his company, chit chatting on occasion.

Every day except Thursday, where there was a bomb scare in Charing Cross that Q had to wirelessly advise upon whilst Bond was sent to hunt down an escaping terrorist, the alpha took his mate home at six o clock sharp.

They’d get home, and other than eating the evening was free for surprisingly enjoyable ‘normalcy’. Q was on call, but there’d been no problems yet. TV, reading and strolling all turned out to be surprisingly pleasant with Q. James had begun a top-secret mental list of things to do with his omega, out of and in the bedroom, now that they had so much time.

Work was persistently dull for Bond. He didn’t mind a short break in danger, but after managing to complete his paper work, re-do his competency tests out of sheer boredom and visiting the shooting range five times in one day, he was bored and stagnating.

Q could still do his work at least, even if the time was now limited… Bond meanwhile simply had time to think.

And what did his thoughts cycle about? Well, Q mostly, then his boredom, thoughts on Q’s pregnancy, of which there was still no sign at the beginning of seven weeks... apparently that was normal but James fantasised on seeing a bump. He gained enjoyment from pondering on the thought of a child, a different house, but begun to feel some flutterings of terror so he stopped quickly.

After those thoughts, came the less pleasant, though more pressing ones: Q’s family.

Two mysterious brothers…

He would have to meet them, maybe even regularly, maybe even like them, or at least convince them he wasn’t a psychopath. Did they even know Q had mated?

James didn’t particularly want to share Q with anyone, even his own family. And up till now he hadn’t had to.

The thought made children seem less scary, and usually drove him down to Q branch with some hastily acquired snack.

By the time Bond brought Q home on Friday evening, he wanted to do nothing more than hold Q until he had worked out how to occupy his mind during the weeks.

Q had started a new schematic however, so Bond prepped dinner. A charming take away, and grabbed himself a beer.

“There, done. Do you like it?” Q announced happily, coming in to spread the sheet on the dinner table. Bond dropped some tinfoil and came over curiously.

“What is it?” There was a time-scale graph on the A2 piece of paper, a tiny line drawn on it. Q looked up at him, a small smile on his face.

“That, is the size of our embryo, yesterday, and…” Q placed a ruler to the paper and added a millimetre with a small flourish, “…today!” He smiled up at Bond. James took a moment to trace the tiny line before measuring it with his fingers and pushing up Q’s top to hold his fingers on his mate’s flat belly. Q held still with difficulty, clearly feeling adorably pleased with himself for making a graph. Only Q could feel more proud of a graph than a baby.

“Tomorrow you can update it if you like.” Q offered, and James smiled fondly at the treat that the omega made it sound like.

“Love to.” James replied back with a smile that made Q beam and kiss him soundly.

The days of good diet and proper rest seemed to have done wonders for Q’s morale and confidence. James was easily infected with happy-omega pheromones and swept Q up high enough to make him laugh and squeak, kissing his stomach.

Back on his feet, Q ran a hand through James’ hair, looked into his eyes and evidently picked up on something the alpha tried to hide in his gaze.

“Come on, lay with me.” Q coaxed gently, tugging on his hand and leading James to the bed. Q set his laptop onto some frightful film that involved a small village and the fuzz, fetched the food, and settled down.

By the time the food was gone, and a couple of beers later, James was thoroughly enjoying the film, and curled around Q for once, head on his mate’s stomach, Q’s hands in his hair, feeling a whole lot better.

Q fell asleep before the end, falling down around James like a cat. The alpha didn’t have the heart to move them. When Q got up to go dry wretch in the night, Bond insisted on a joint shower before they crawled back into bed.

Come the morning, James’ bad mood was directed at one thing and one thing only: the toast that had tried to make his Q throw up, again.

“Bloody toast! It doesn’t even taste!” Q shouted from the bathroom in between violent coughing attacks. James levelled the offending slab with all the considerable rage a double oh could muster. “Please kill it before I come out!”

“Consider it dead.” James Bond glared and proceeded to thoroughly destroy a piece of toast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, and commenting, and everything, you all make me immensely happy and hard working, so thank you n_n
> 
> Might not be much 'lock' for a couple of chapters now, more focus will be on pregnancy and 00Q coping with it and work... supposedly, though my inspiration usurps my mind's authority when it comes to my writing, so I'm never 100% sure ;D


	6. H0: Q-Branch are capable; H1: Q-Branch are completely incapable

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why do the chapters keep getting longer? I don't know...
> 
> Also for this chapter  
>  **WARNING: Abusive comments/attitude.** Conducted towards omegas, so hopefully nothing triggering or too unpleasant, but I wanted to give the heads up incase.
> 
> (Also…happened to check my stats for this story at a random point and got RIDICULOUSLY happy when I saw I had '221' Kudos… xD)

“Mm don’t.” Q pushed Bond off him, despite being half asleep. The agent was so surprised that he let it happen. He’d only been nuzzling at his mate’s chest though, and was a little put out.

“What’s wrong love?” Q managed to crack open his eyes enough to pout a little, rubbing at his chest delicately.

“Chest is sore…” Q rolled his eyes and dropped back to bed with a huff. “Apparently that can happen.” James, soothed, managed a smile and pulled Q back to his chest, sliding his hands up until he displaced the quartermaster’s hands, replacing them with his own.

“I think I can help with that.” The alpha proceeded to gently rub and massage tender muscle and flesh. Q let out a pleased little moan and settled into him, clever hands eventually coming to roam over James’ skin distractingly. Somehow the lithe man managed to twist till he could kneed the muscles at the back of James’ spine.

Later, much later, James Bond would be ashamed at how he ‘went boneless like a kitten’, as Q said.

“Don’t worry, you were a very fearsome and intimidating kitten.” Q soothed as he smirked. The alpha just huffed.

“You don’t see me mocking you whenever you go weak at the knees.” Q had the decency to flush a little bit.

“You make it sound like I spend my days swooning.” James grinned. “You’re a monster.”

“I happen to like it when you swoon.” Q crossed his arms tetchily.

“I don’t do it a lot! And you’re the one who turns into a great sleeping lion whenever someone strokes you the right way.” Bond stalked over with a smirk and proceeded to lick a long sensuous stripe up Q’s easily bared neck.

“Oh damn you.” Q cursed gently, and pulled James in for a kiss before abruptly freezing and pulling away.

Bond was beginning to recognise the symptoms all too well, and mentally cursed that he had had coffee this morning. Swiftly, and with a quick apology breathed into Q’s ear, he swept the omega up and carried him to the bathroom, depositing him in front of the toilet.

Q promptly vomited, shaking as much with frustration as the unpleasant sensation. Thankfully the attack was a short one, Bond carefully holding onto Q and offering comfort. When finished, the mates collapsed together in a tangle, James’ hand idly stroking through soft waves, Q plucking aimlessly at the alpha’s shirt.

“That is swiftly becoming dull.” Q announced, voice grumpy.

“I’d rather you didn’t get sick at all.” James admitted, pressing a kiss to Q’s hair as the omega sighed.

“It should get better, apparently. Second trimester things are meant to improve before the utter downgrade in mobility that the third brings.” James hummed and shifted his svelte lover closer.

“When will you start showing?” He asked, infinitely curious of the answer.

“Not just yet, though there doesn’t seem to be an exact science, most male omegas can start showing from eleven weeks on, maybe earlier if you’re thin anyway. Females start later, although by fourteen weeks I should definitely be showing something.” Bond couldn’t stop himself smiling, and reached to rub over Q’s flat stomach under his shirt.

“I’m going to look different…” Q cautioned, sounding a bit hesitant. James met his eyes firmly.

“I can’t wait.” The omega blushed.

“I can. I rather enjoy being able to see my own feet.” James huffed a laugh.

“You’re going to look gorgeous, I want the world to see you’re pregnant, know we’re having a pup.” He patted Q’s stomach, and the omega squirmed around until he was pressing his face into the alpha’s neck. “Q?”

“Sorry,” There was a smile in his soft voice. “That word apparently does things to me. Visceral reaction, instincts.” James smirked, a warmth of pride and possessiveness spreading through him.

“Like that were going to have a pup? Growing our pup inside you, a big healthy one, good and strong. You’re going to keep them warm and safe inside you whilst they grow, feeding them, carrying our pup, my pup.”

“Oh God James you need to stop!” Q begged, writhing helplessly against the alpha, a silly little self-pleased smile on his face. James kept rubbing circles onto the smooth skin of his mate’s belly, delighting in the reaction he was getting from a few simple sentences.

“You’re smitten with the idea aren’t you?” Bond accused gently. Q shook his head in disbelief.

“Bloody biology, I swear if you’d come out with any of that when we first met I would have run a mile, maybe even flown one or two.” James grinned.

“Me too… And now look, I filled you up and now you’re full of my pup.” Q moaned and began rutting against him shamelessly. “I do believe your instincts and I need to get better acquainted.” Q wrapped around him readily when lifted and proceeded to nip teasingly at James’ throat, not letting up till the alpha managed to pin his minx-like twisting body to the bed.

 

-00Q00-

 

“Apparently…” Bond looked on with a smile, Q was neck deep in coding today, apparently a massive overhaul was going to happen and the quartermaster was busy developing their latest security measures. Some step beyond what was already implanted, something that there was only one person in the world capable of.

“…Blasty’s brain is developing this week.” Q finished, still not taking his eyes off the screen. Bond felt a curious but entirely pleasant squirm in his stomach. Excitement and pride, more, so much more he couldn’t hope to name… He wondered, not for the first time, whether their pup would have Q’s looks, his fierce intelligence. God he hoped they wouldn’t run rings around him. Q would probably insist on having their baby’s IQ tested before he could even walk.

“Is that so?” He mused, intrigued in a satisfying sort of way. “Clever little Blasty.”

“I do hope he’s paying attention, daddy would so hate to be slaving away over this without even a sliver of it slipping through…”

“If you make us talk in programming code through dinner again, I’m going to have to get you sectioned.” Bond flat out stated. Q looked up rather defensively.

“That was one time! You said we could do whatever I wanted during the day-“

“And that I could have you however I wanted at night.” James finished, smirking. He stalked close enough to whisper in Q’s ear, relishing in the shiver it produced. “I remember.”

“Oh hush, you enjoyed it at the time. Admit it.” Q bickered back.

“I enjoyed the evening, and I suppose for foreplay it served well enough.” Q snorted a little, turning a cheeky smile on Bond.

“Well some of your coding did come across along the lines of ‘increase input speed and ram power.” The agent smirked and nipped Q’s ear subtly enough that no one would notice.

“At least I got some of it right then.”

James managed to coax a decent helping of fried breakfast down Q along with some orange juice before the omega delved back into the coding zone. Regretfully, Bond returned upstairs to the dull as dishwater offices and spent some time hacking into Eve’s laptop lazily until Tanner came along and booted him out.

“Six oh clock Bond, M wants you to rid us of your boredom and take Q away while you’re at it, looks like he’s settling in for an all-nighter otherwise.”

James swiftly went to sweep Q out of the Branch, finding him only slightly moody at it, but only because the alpha managed to placate him with the idea of updating their pup growth chart.

 

-00Q00-

 

The theory was ideal. Wonderful. Give Q set work hours and let him have more rest, more health, less of a risk to himself, his mate, his pup…

In reality, there was a very good reason why Q was MI6’s quartermaster.

He could do the bloody job.

James and Q had about five days living in the ideal realm before the phone started ringing.

The system overhaul couldn’t happen soon enough with Q, the only person capable of designing and developing the new security protocols and encryptions, having to take so much time off.

It shouldn’t have been a problem, he shouldn’t have had to put in all nighters, pregnant or not.

But he was the quartermaster, and Q had not risen to this position so young by getting a decent night’s sleep.

No he’d _strived_ for this, chased it as his mate would hunt a target. Q threw himself headlong into his work regardless of himself, regardless of the intelligence of those around him. If he was there, made MI6 the best it could be, what did it matter if there was one more wrung out omega in the building and a heap of people who couldn’t make heads or tails of his work till it was finished?

It would be finished. And in the meantime Q would be there to handle _everything_.

A few work-hour restrictions later and that was a very different matter, and the crutch Q had become to one of the most integral branches of MI6 was abruptly obvious.

They couldn’t cope. Nobody could. There were more of them and they were trying hard, but they weren’t Q. Nobody was except the real thing…

Just how he liked it.

When he wasn’t being woken at oh-God-oh-clock to the _incessant_ worries of his branch.

Tonight, they’d rang no less than three times. True, there was an active mission going on, but still!

James groaned beside him as the phone blared into efficient life once more at two in the morning. Q clawed his way out of sleep and to the phone, heart thumping a bit as ever.

“Q.” He confirmed, managing his voice into something vaguely professional for someone who only wanted to bury his head beneath James.

_“Q, it’s double oh eight… deep mission crises…”_

They were having problems with 008. No surprises there. The man had all the stubborn recklessness of Bond with none of the charm. Q had spent hard-won time and resources to try and get the agent under some form of control, given that the man wasn’t overly impressed with omegas in the workplace.

M had given Q the authority go-ahead on a series of deep, intrinsic code-scanner-insertion programs to be inputted in governments around the world after the first time he had successfully managed to keep comms on 008 for an entire mission without the agent trying to actively work against him.

 _“He’s refusing to work with anyone who isn’t you.”_ Q bit back his groan with difficulty, mostly by holding the phone away and suppressing the sound into a handy pillow. James’ alert eyes scanned him.

“What?” The alpha asked, cautiously. For all James knew it could be something much greater than yet another double oh having yet another temper tantrum. It was just simply something Q didn’t want to deal with or think about right now. Not very professional, but everyone has weak points… when pregnant… at two in the god-forsaken morning.

“Double oh eight apparently.” Q quipped back, pulling himself together and back to the phone. “Have you tried relocating him through the-“

_“We have him, Q… He just refuses to do anything without you giving him the instructions, and we’re on a bomb trigger!”_

Bugger.

“Where? How bad?” Q demanded, sharply, beginning to fight his way out of bed. James was with him, jumping up at the first switch in Q’s tone to dead-fucking-serious.

He rammed on his glasses and scrabbled for some even vaguely work-appropriate clothes.

_“Russian Embassy in New York. Dirty bomb, hard wired, suspected FSB plant but the positioning and equipment will trace back to implicate us.”_

“Jesus _fucking_ Christ.” Abandoning all attempts at savoury dressing Q jerked to action. “Tell him to bloody well listen to you!” With a rushed snatch and grab of his laptop the omega was slamming out of the bedroom door. James was split seconds behind him on pure instinct as Q rapidly scrabbled for the car keys and flung them at his mate, yanking open the door. “Better yet get him on the damn phone to me!”

James pelted down the stairs next to Q, sprinting ahead at the last minute to unlock their rather gorgeous Aston Martin. Q flung himself in as James brought the beast roaring into life and gunned it for MI6, traffic rules be dammed.

_“We can’t! He’s not even on a secure line-“_

“Get him on one!” Q shouted, barely containing his panic and disbelieving anger. That should have been the first bloody move! Even if the entire branch was busy trying to get him to listen at least one person should have been dedicated to securing a connection. They should know this! James glanced between Q and the road, clearly keeping in control, emotions not fraying. Q needed to get himself back under the same thing to get them out of this. Blindly, eyes unfocusing on the present to laser into the distance as his brain began whirring up with lightning responses to what needed to be done, Q reached out and grabbed onto James’ shoulder.

His alpha’s bare shoulder. Q barely registered it apart from how immensely fucking helpful it was right now. Warm. There. 007’s dependable, calm, controlled, and solid source of focus. Q took a deep breath, ignoring the panicked rantings on the other end of the phone as he centred himself, brain and intelligence kicking up, whirring into gear. When he spoke next Q was back to his usual clipped calm, if intense.

“One of you notify Tanner, or M directly. The rest keep double oh eight on the line, I’ll create a secure channel on the way, have R&D ready to assist and debrief me on anything we know about the bomb.” Q withdrew his hand from Bond, and pulled at his laptop “Give me a time frame Morgan.”

_“Forty minutes sir.”_

“Shit.” Q hissed, shoving the phone on speaker and throwing it on the dash in favour of devoting both hands to his laptop.

“Q,” Bond, voice not loud enough to be heard over the line.

“Forty minutes. Please get me there.”

“Will do.” The car slid impossibly faster, but if anything it helped Q tunnel vision into the job. His laptop sang under his instructions, linking to the MI6 mainframe, pulling up what he needed for a secure line, forcing his own codes to let him through with loopholes invented just for himself. Tapped through to MI6, down the call to their agent, switched the channels. By the time Bond was skidding the Aston to a screaming halt outside the MI6 buildings, The branch were talking to 008 through a secured line and Q had speed-read over the details so far. Enough to know what he was working with.

The car barely halted before Q was bursting out and sprinting to the doors, James hot on his trail. Q swiped his key card into the first door and jabbed the code for emergency-access. MI6 opened to him like a cracked eggshell.

The mates sprinted down corridors and stairs to Q branch. James could probably have gone faster at his own speed, but he was stuck to Q’s side like a spare lethal shadow.

Q burst into his branch and jogged down the expanse to the large wall of screens in his office where the crowd was gathered, watching him with open-mouthed shock and relief.

“Give me room, get me through.” He ordered, the path immediately clearing for him to the central desk. “Be useful or get out. Right, double oh eight, I’m with you.”

_“’Bout bloody time quartermaster! This thing’s got atoms in it I want nowhere near my face, so what the hell do I do?”_

Q took a deep, quiet breath through his nose, the schematics of the bomb flying through his mind faster than a freight train.

“Keep very still, tell me what you’re seeing.”

 

-00Q00-

 

James watched Q work through the night. His mate talked 008 through disarming the bomb in twenty minutes, getting it divided up into each of its component parts for safe transport and analysis.

The rest of the branch wavered and lost focus, lost calm, some outright lost their minds. Q never shivered, standing straight and composed during the time it took to dismantle the bomb and hack into the Russian Embassy CCTV and computer logs to track just who had left the weapon.

Q dealt with the often scathing or downright insulting remarks 008 threw out with a core of steel that Bond both admired and regretted… because that sort of determined composure in the face of such a bastard had to have come from somewhere.

Bond had no love for 008. Good at killing people, shit at poker, even worse manners. Not the least because he had forced Q out of bed in the early hours of the morning to guide his arse out of hostile territory with stolen goods when Embassy security notified the FSB in New York… Forced his pregnant mate into work whilst he was wearing nothing more than a shirt, loose tie, glasses and a pair of boxers. No trousers, no shoes.

To be fair, James himself was only wearing tracksuit bottoms, a gun and a watch.

008 was officially a tosser.

_“Where the bleedin’ hell are you taking me sunshine? Round the bloomin’ merry go round?! No fuckin’ time for this shit.”_

“If you get caught right now you are not only facing the unenviable likelihood of Russian interrogation but are also carrying items MI6 has no wish for anyone to find and link back to Britain. So prove me wrong and show you can keep up.” There was a growl; half rage half pleasure at Q’s ferocious yet calm feistiness. Bond pulled a growl of his own.

_“Don’t like being woken up do you quartermaster?”_

“No more than you enjoy water-boarding. Take the third train along, cargo carriage out of New York.” There were some grunts and the sound of 008 scrambling up aboard a train that was starting to pull out.

 _“Huh, timings getting better omega, double oh seven beating it into you is he?”_ Every muscle in Bond’s body jerked into aggressive hatred at the insinuation, the casual tone. He could hide his own growl, but hated that Q let the abuse drip off as though irrelevant, as though this happened all the time… Knowing 008 it probably did, but James had never heard the disgusting words directed towards his omega before, his Q. the rest of the branch seemed appropriately appalled and sickened as well, he was gratified to see.

“Retrieval team on standby two stops along, hand over the components and get out of the country… Talk to me like that again and I’ll have you thrown out of the double oh program and back into military service.” There was a vicious snarl on the other end. The threat was perfectly played; well within Q’s rights and power, well outside of 008’s comfort zone. The military was not a kind place for anyone so openly disrespectful towards omegas. Not to mention with the man’s blatant authority issues.

_“Well played brat.”_

“Same can’t be said for you agent. Over and out.” Q disconnected the call and let out a single long exhale. The shake was so slight only those paying rapt attention instead of looking away awkwardly at the ruthless agent’s comments would notice.

“Morgan, keep contact with the rescue team. Minnie relay the proceedings to whoever’s on M’s night-duty.” The tension dropped slightly and Q turned to his branch, looking utterly, breathtakingly in command despite being in his boxers. “Remember the threat level isn’t lowered until those components are back in MI6 hands. And there are several key issues with your performance tonight that came seriously close to jeopardising the state of National Security. I should hope you are well aware of what those mistakes are and can gather your wits in order to have this mission signed and sealed. I cannot hide my disappointment, because frankly each and every one of you know better than to let an agent get away with such a reckless disregard for himself and his country. More importantly: to let that get in the way of your own work. I believe you all to be better than that.” 

Someone, a beta Bond vaguely remembered as Morgan, seemed to take offense and be prepared to speak despite the general air of accepted chastisement. With a single raise of hands and narrow of eyes, Q halted all argument.

“If you are going to tell me that the agent’s emotions made working with him impractical, don’t. I don’t want to hear how any of you let your own emotions get in the way-“

“But he only listens to you!” Piped up another omega, who sounded close to tears and looked exceedingly young. At this, Q’s green eyes hardened.

“If I were to drop down dead tomorrow, would that be excuse enough to let the country fall into ruin?” He let the sentence hang. “You _must_ be able to follow standard procedure. You _must_ be able to remember what course of action -your own action- needs to be taken regardless of the agent’s emotions and situation. Secure lines established. Locating the source of the bomb. Contacting the correct authorities. Scrambling the phone lines of other organisations. That is your job and has nothing to do with an out of control double oh. I expect better. I _know_ you are better. I can only assume that tonight panic and stress got in the way considering the high stakes. Get this wrapped up with _faultless_ attention to detail and no more will be said on this occasion, but I’ll be watching you. Do not let me down again.”

General murmurs of apology and acceptance ran through the shamefaced crowd. It occurred to James that his mate was both the iron fist and the nurturing creative of Q branch… Allowing, encouraging excellence and satisfaction whilst demanding the high standards and resounding achievements his branch had become renowned for. Watching him, James couldn’t help wondering where that nerve of steel came from when his Q could be so soft and calm that he appeared to be dreaming. Q nodded at the general state of regret and remorse around him, and let it go.

“No celebrating tonight chaps and chapettes. Though I dare say M will fully sanction the funding of a food-run considering the difficulties of this evening.” With that Q tapped out a command to lower the screens to general surveillance, his branch straightening and lurching into work as if the promise of food was an olive branch back into their beloved Q’s good books provided they showed sufficient improvement. Bond thought that it probably was that exactly. His mate had managed to master a truly impressive command of MI6’s most infamous branch past the double oh’s.

The omega turned to James, looked him up and down, confused, and frowned.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” James grinned, feeling the war of his impressed desire of Q and the lingering poison of 008.

“You should look at yourself, love.” Q glanced down, bemused, and flushed a bit, managing to grin weakly and hold his hand out to James.

“Come with me?” The alpha took his hand without blinking, tightly wound after witnessing the depreciation of his mate. “Need a breather.”

James took charge, wordlessly, automatically, leading Q out and down to the kitchens. Few people traipsed down here that weren’t chefs, but James knew where they kept the keys to the stored food.

Q sat down at a table with a long breath and put his head in his hands for a moment whilst the blonde raided the cupboard for those fancy sandwiches he’d seen Tanner snacking on yesterday after a board meeting. Setting the tray of cocktail-sandwiches down, James roughly grabbed some orange juice, Q watching him all the while.

“Are you alright?” Q eventually asked, softly, worried but calm. James slammed a fridge door shut.

“No I’m bloody not.” He turned to Q. “Are you?” The omega sighed harshly, rubbing his hands up under his glasses.

“I keep worrying about what will happen when I have to go on leave… If they’re like this… God I’d forgotten what it was like when I didn’t run the bloody place. Just because of one jumped up double oh.” He dropped his hands, staring ahead. In the back of his mind James worried if a few years ago he would have inspired the same response.

“What that man said to you…” Q closed his eyes and turned away with a frown.

“I know. He’s a bastard. But I can deal with it… Apparently I’m the only one who can deal with it.” Q snorted, un amused.

“You shouldn’t have to.” Bond pointed out, growled out. Q met his eyes bleakly, a weak, melancholy smile on his face.

“No, but I do have to. I know it might seem strange but it’s…important that I deal with it… that I can deal with it.” Bond shook with tension, mind blanketed by outrage.

“He insulted you, suggested that I-“ the moment his throat caught him by surprise and strangled off Q was on his feet and gripping onto James’ hands.

“I know you would never do that to me. Everybody knows that. I love you and you love me.” As if it explained the world.

Bond knew enough of life to know that it did, it explained everything.

Still, he wouldn’t let this go. next time 008 was in the country Bond would pay him a personal reply to the rash statement.

“I’d like to rip him limb from limb.” The low, growling shudder of Bond’s voice sent his mate’s eyes wide, there was no lie in the alpha’s tone.

“James,”

“You’re my mate Q. He speaks to you like that again, he touches you, he gets alone with you in any way, and I will kill him.” The assurance had Q gulping, ducking his head a bit whilst not dropping eye contact.

They could both feel the weight of those words in the air.

“…I’ll let M know. He’ll sort out an escort for double oh eight.” Q managed eventually, tone low, grave. James felt some of his insides uncoil that Q understood that this was something the alpha just couldn’t budge on. Q took a deep, steadying breath.

“To be honest, I’d scratch the electronic existence out of any omega who attempted to in any way insult or endanger you… so I suppose that’s fair.”

Bond rumbled a half tense half satisfied growl and pulled Q close, inhaling the scent at his neck deeply, steadying himself. The omega kneeded his hands into James’ shoulders.

“I don’t doubt your abilities for a moment Q, know that.”

“I do.” James bit his neck with a praising nip before licking there.

“You’re in me too deep. I wont risk or loose you, and even if you were wrapped in bubble wrap I’d still walk around behind you holding a mattress if I could.” Q snorted.

“Ridiculous.” But he nuzzled into James’ neck.

“…Maybe. But you’re mine, and I’m more than yours. I’d have us fighting the world together until my dying breath.” Q heaved a deep breath in and out against him.

“Okay… just, okay.” Q kissed his pulse point slowly, breathing in his alpha’s scent. What James had said could amount for treason if they weren’t both completely on the same page and loyal to a fault. “No one’s ever fought alongside me before… Should I be saying something profound? I could probably quote all the battle speeches from Lord of the Rings word-for-word if you like?” The tension didn’t completely break, but it began to dissipate swiftly, leaving only its shaky tendrils in their limbs and bones.

“If it’s all the same, I rather think I’d prefer to do that elsewhere. Not to mention MI6 needs you tonight.” Bond sucked a kiss onto the base of Q’s neck at the claim bite. “Despite how much my rampant protective instincts flare, my darling quartermaster.” Another kiss was pressed under Q’s jaw as the omega laughed gently, bashfully pleased.

“You’re hopelessly perfect double oh seven.” Q kissed him deeply, and Bond purred into it. “As long as you put up with my spreadsheets and electronic tampering to find your whereabouts I don’t think I’m about to complain.” Bond grinned, cheerily and cheekily.

“Good, now lets eat. I’m starving and I have a feeling we missed breakfast.” Q snickered.

“Not to mention loosing the ability to clothe ourselves.”

“Personally I think we made quite the impression.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just wanted to say: You're all amazingly supportive and have a lot of interesting things to say! I particularly enjoyed reading your comments last chapter (every comment has me victory-dance embarrassingly (no I can't dance for my life) around the house regardless of voyeurs!). To those who shared their pregnancy tid-bits, I'm very flattered!  
> To everyone else, so much <3 that I smother you in it ;D
> 
> Thanks for reading n_n


	7. H0: Q needs to eat; H1: Q REALLY needs to eat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I thought I'd give this to you early because its a kind fixing things and whumpish chapter...  
> I know both the last two chapters haven't been 'baby heavy', but now that things have been sorted out we'll be back on track ;D

Fortunately, after having words with the night shift Q branch seemed to step it up a notch. Night shift must have spread word to Day shift that Q was on the warpath, and they were performing beautifully as a result.

To be fair, it wasn’t every day they saw their boss shoot down a double oh half naked, whilst a barely-clad 007 lurked in their midst. Q rather thought James was right: they had made quite the impression.

True to his word, Q had taken time to speak with M the very next day on the whole 008 problem. The omega didn’t know whether to be slightly vexed or not at the severity with which M and James were tackling the issue… However, that could simply be because for most of his life, Q hadn’t attached to anyone deeply enough to receive that level of care. Not since leaving home anyway.

When you worked like Q did, you didn’t leave much time for deep connections. He did take James’ threat seriously though, even if 008 had never done more than verbally insult him and perform a few crude intimidation tactics -that simply didn’t work- whilst in public, he knew his alpha wouldn’t think twice about trying to snap the other agent’s neck.

Q could take care of himself, but this was a quirk of James’ he had to allow. It was, after all, a reasonable reaction considering the offence to his omega. That sort of behaviour wasn’t tolerated typically these days. And it was rather flattering, to be honest, seeing as he knew James didn’t think him weak.

008 would now only ever see Q if there was an escort present, Eve or Tanner; someone not easily intimidated and used to reporting back to M directly. Otherwise it was business as usual.

Q branch may have pulled themselves together and discovered they were, in fact, perfectly capable of standing on their own two feet long enough to remember how to do their jobs… but the nightly phone calls continued.

The near-disaster in New York had set a string of incidents and overseas threats flying around as various countries panicked, blamed each other, and resorted to sending in spies and other unfavourables. Risk levels were high, their new double oh recruits weren’t nearly ready for the field and they were short-staffed on that front enough as it was. Q could see the tension lining his mate’s mouth every time James bit back a suggestion to go out into London to catch some terrorist that happened by.

It wasn’t ideal for either of them. James badly needed to do _something_ … Not to mention it was a waste of talent having him on permanent leave just because no one would risk Q’s health should his alpha die whilst he was pregnant. The omega hated seeing the prowess of 007 overlooked and rejected… but he couldn’t bare even the thought of loosing his James.

Quiet, ‘safe’ missions would bore him, the man’s appetite for danger and adrenaline was faintly staggering, but Q thought, he hoped, that even James himself would think twice about anything too lethal. He had promised, after all…

Still, it was trying on both of them. Not the least because as they stumbled out of bed and clawed on clothes for the fourth time that week (thankfully not as frantically as the first time), Q was feeling nearly as bad as the day James had taken him to medical.

“You’re going to be eight weeks pregnant in two days and so far you’ve been dragged out of bed four times in the past week.” James growled, temper flaring from where it constantly simmered under his skin out of dual frustration; lack of job, lack of mate’s health. For all James’ sharp, hyper-alert tension from not getting out enough, Q’s responding frayed emotions were draped with dissonance.

Listlessly pulling on a cardigan, shivering slightly, Q focused more on blinking awake and straightening his vision rather than enthuse with James.

“I know,” He murmured, not really knowing or caring what his voice was doing. He didn’t have the energy for this. He was exhausted. Blasty kept kicking up a fuss and making him throw up at all hours of the day and night… Increasingly, since to keep his strength up Q had no choice but to bolt down meals whenever his bizarre schedule would allow.

The lack of routine was becoming murder. And Q swore he had never needed so much sleep in his life. Even after his first heat, traditionally the worst, he’d been allowed to sleep… dear god Sherlock had practically stood guard over his bedside for a week afterwards. Which was saying something.

James was cursing in the background, and Q really wished he could bring himself to understand it and respond, but he could only go on autopilot till he woke up. He needed this time before they got to Q branch to pull himself together.

 

-00Q00-

 

James had left Q in his branch, coordinating a string of minions and lower-level agents involved in a sting operation to a terrorist cell on British soil.

It hurt. Stung in a deep, agonising and frustrating way. More than Bond had thought possible. More than he had wanted to believe. There was work to be done, and he was sitting on the bench because of his mate’s very necessary mental health.

He didn’t want to blame Q; it was the very last thing he wanted to irrationally resent his mate. Besides, Q hadn’t asked for this, any of it, he had been the one sceptical when M banned the agent from fieldwork. Sometimes Q knew him too well, knew better than what James wanted to believe of himself.

During their days at work there were usually some things to do if one hung around looking bored long enough, but the nights when Q got called in were a struggle. Q didn’t need him in branch; experience was useless when clear directions and information were all that was needed. And to sit and watch Q save the day time after time, perfectly in control and in his element, was draining James into a dark place he’d experienced only too often, but in a whole new way.

They’d begun to take it home with them too, a bit strained in their interactions, snapping slightly at each other…never enough to start an argument, mostly because Q was just too tired right now to pay heed to his alpha’s confrontational nature. But it was beginning to show.

James himself struggled between rage at seeing Q’s health slip back downhill and his own feelings of uselessness.

A walk around the mostly deserted halls of MI6 was a chance to get some air. None of the skeleton crew was about to bother a double oh.

For want of anything better to do, James headed to the gym, a large, well-equipped cavern of a room with separate work out stations around it. He visited at least once a day, refusing to give up his shape simply because he’d given up his day job.

Tonight, however, the room was occupied, lights on, and voices filtering through the door. Curious, James slipped through the door, unnoticed, and breathed out in slightly amazed realisation.

He’d forgotten that the double-oh program only trained in here at night, when there were fewer prying eyes. The instructor had changed since James’ time, but the study of knife-play was strikingly familiar to his days of training under three ex-agents and SAS experts.

Warm nostalgia crept up on him, and James crossed his arms, leaning against the door to watch the five recruits go through sequences of strikes against each other, one against the teacher… A smirkish smile caught his mouth, he could well remember the memorised techniques, and how they’d lasted him all of ten seconds out in the field before reality had crashed down and he’d simply had to improvise. Of course, they were taught improvisation…but there was only so much that you could teach within the confines of MI6 and instructors following the book.

With predator’s eyes and certain fondness similar to what the alpha might have for determined pups, James analysed their stances, fighting styles. Three men and two women. Same demographics James had had, although only two had made the cut into active service back then: himself and 006; Alec Trevelyan.

The shorthaired blonde woman was struggling to force the rigours of routine into her natural physical advantage to use agility; the other, wavy-dark haired one was trying to force too much power into her blows, overcompensating.

Two of the men were clearly military; James would hazard at marines, they were following the system without problems, though lacked inspiration and spark. The fifth man, battling the instructor, was clearly frustrated, kept going for a move but pulling back to follow the routine.

James eyed the fifth critically; he was ginger and slightly crazy-haired, he had an opening. Maybe deliberate on the teacher’s part but probably not, and saw it… The blade in his hand spun, Bond could read the move: hilt-strike to the chin, followed by a swift downward stab; knock defensive-arms out the way and quick slash with the second knife to the exposed abdomen… But at the last minute he swung the blade back into normal fighting position and was swiftly knocked back with a vicious side-swipe of the instructor.

“Ack yer bastard!” The man cursed out as he hit the floor, Scottish accent prevalent, swiping at his split lip and the bruise left from the training knife: blunt. James, quite unaware of where the inspired spark came from, shifted off the wall and towards the pausing group.

“You should have taken the chance.” He announced casually, every one of the gathered people jumping in shock. Satisfying to know he still had it. The young man looked up at him, sour and surprised. James merely smirked with a raised eyebrow. “It would have been a good move.” There was an unsure half-snort and the man stood up.

“Aye, it would’ve been, but we’re here for a reason pal.” James smirked as the Scot attempted to defend his conditioning to the rules. “Who the bloody hell are yer meant to be anyway?” The instructor swiftly cut across the transaction, clearly both bemused and trying to gain authority back.

“Agent, to what do we owe the pleasure?” Bond eyed the man whilst the onlookers’ interest peeked. Clearly competent but struggling with sticking to his instructions, probably had his favourites in another group, fallen into choreography.

“Merely observing, I would have hoped the lessons had improved since my day.” That got the students’ attention.

“You’re a double oh?” Blondie asked, her eyes alight with intrigue, as if by watching him she could absorb his experience.

“Yes and I’m sure he’s busy.” Hinted the instructor, a little waspishly, clearly seeing another distracted lesson befalling his students. “As our we, stances students.” They fell back into line grudgingly, and Bond couldn’t resist.

“May I?” Oh, now, _that_ was rapt attention. Adrenaline at the scenting of danger in the air crept up his spine, smile controlled but pulse picking up very slightly. The instructor evidently decided to cut his losses.

“Quite generous of you,” He handed over his knives.

“Oh no, I rather think they wont be near enough of a challenge yet-“ There were some huffs and a couple of growls. “-Not if they don’t start thinking for themselves in a fight, learning how it feels to improvise…” James smirked, and took the knives from Scotty instead.

“En guard?” Bond asked, pleasantly, and the instructor reluctantly took up poise, but focused.

It didn’t take five seconds to disarm him and land a killing blow. The students’ were fairly stunned.

“B-but that wasn’t in the routine…” The brunette protested. Bond turned to them, examining the useless knives he remembered so well, he’d been surprised the first time he had felt how a sharp blade truly cut through flesh.

“Do you think that every opponent is going to follow, or allow you to follow, the extensive moves?” Of course not, and of course they knew that. “If you don’t have an instinctual ability to observe and respond swiftly, then that’s just one more lesson you’ll be waiting to learn until you get out there… Do yourselves a favour and get used to honing and trusting your own capabilities.” He fixed them with a look, deceptively stern for how much he was enjoying this; a lesson he would have loved to learn back then.

“Reacting needs to be second nature. You can help yourself by learning it now.” He locked gazes with Scotty. “Over half of you wont have what it takes, want to prove me wrong?” Scotty grinned a bit.

“Aye, if it’s a proper lesson yer offering pal and nay another pretty speech.” James smirked, lethally, and watched the recruits edge backwards.

“Come at me then.”

Two hours later Bond left the recruits stumbling and licking their wounds, but each with a marked improvement in both aptitude and adaptation. Not to mention the satisfaction that comes from a sound workout, and the spark of inspiration that comes from gaining knowledge. It had also managed to exercise the alpha’s skills: patience, problem solving, and a decent sweat under his still pristine suit.

All in all, quite a satisfying venture… though Bond didn’t know what the establishment was thinking, still using such dated practices. No wonder they hadn’t had any promising new agents for the past five years.

Somewhat against his will, James’ mind was cooking up what else it would be useful for them to grasp that they might not be being taught, what he would have liked to know before going out there…

Q was slumped in the bathroom when Bond finally tracked him down, half asleep in a stall and pale faced. After actually doing something for once, James found that his resentment towards the situation was mercifully non-existent for the first time in a week. Despite looking dreadful, when he heard the alpha enter Q managed to smile up at him.

“Hello, James.” Just happy to see him, no resentment for wandering off and not being there, James was reminded again that he had found himself an extraordinary omega. The alpha crouched down beside Q and kissed his cheek, sliding a hand to his stomach at the same time.

“You alright?” Q looked mildly embarrassed.

“Rather forgot myself, mission got wrapped up and I grabbed a celebratory mug of tea without thinking. Had to drink the damn thing just to avert suspicion.” James smiled at his mate’s quirks, surely Q must have realised that with his behaviour the last few weeks the entire branch must know he was pregnant, or at least suspect…

But then, it was Q branch.

“Are you finished?”

“Mm, for now. But regular work starts in twenty minutes, I was just hiding for a bit.” James frowned. Q shouldn’t have to keep going, but at least their wake-up call had been late enough to allow a few hours sleep.

“I should take you home.” He stated. Q’s gaze sharpened.

“We can leave early, but 001 has a date with a Bulgarian cyber-threat this morning so I need to be here anyway.” James bent awkwardly to kiss Q’s stomach.

“Your mother is impossible.” Q swatted at him.

“Stop it! don’t give Blasty ideas about calling me _mother_.” James caught Q’s hands and grinned cheekily, holding them as he held the omega’s waist still.

“Me thinks he doth protest too much, pup.” Q groaned.

“Uhhhg I’m too clever to deal with this lunacy.” Q joked, and flailed his arms free. “Help me up?” James easily lifted the slighter man to his feet and nuzzled him before leading the way out. Q was smiling slightly.

“You're very happy, any reason why in particular?”

“How do you think M would feel about me taking the new double oh recruits to a cage fight?”

“…What?” James just grinned and escorted his bemused mate along.

“He gets in at eight right? After breakfast I might go wait for him.”

-00Q00-

 

By the time Friday evening rolled round, Q felt a bit like death. He hadn’t been able to eat a single thing at work today without Blasty kicking up a fuss, and he was beginning to wonder if he’d ever eat again. As a result Q had locked his office to all except Bond, should he come by, and had polarised the windows opaque whilst he worked and threw up. Q led 002 through the pursuit of a man with a motherboard, covering the mic at quiet moments in order to wretch into his bin.

Following that, Q delved into his search for the mythical creature known as ‘R’ who was meant to be lurking within his department somewhere. Q had been R before the Silva incident, and had yet to find a suitable replacement for his old role.

The omega had resorted to personally vetting his employees for someone who would even vaguely stand a chance of being capable of what he expected. Few fit the bill; Q had a hot list of five. He’d have to convene interviews, set each of them in charge as a test over the next few weeks, review their performances on both active mission support and in-house monitoring, programming, coding, organisation, leadership, R&D…

It was exhausting.

The only good things that had come out of this week were A) realising his increasing need of a fixed second-in-command, and B) James finding the new double oh recruits; something Q was much more happy about, to be honest. His mate was now able to spend their Q-branch Nights involving himself in their training, and his days drafting and re-drafting something that loosely constituted as ‘lesson plans’. Not that Q would dare call it that, since James had determined it nothing less than ‘Instinctual Enhancement Training’.

Either way, by the time that James came to take him home for the weekend he had a headache and had spent the last half an hour resisting the urge to begin pleading with the embryo in his stomach to just let him eat by biting his own hand. James took one look at him, pulled a face of dual concern and anger and wordlessly helped him up and out. Q was rather galled to find himself shaking. In the car he fell into a dose, head ringing. Upon arriving home, where James had to help him upstairs considerably more than Q would have liked, the omega made a b-line for bed, stripped and passed out under the covers. Throughout it all, his mate hadn’t said a word, something Q was desperately grateful for because he wasn’t sure if he would have begun snapping or crying.

When Q next woke, it was to the phone ringing and James’ warmth coiled around him.

“No, Q can’t come into work, because he’s fucking tired.” Q muttered, voice tightening in misery even as he reached for the phone.

James’ hand was stroking up and down his back as Q buried his face in the pillow, biting it viciously to curb his mounting frustration as Morgan ranted about something that of course required his immediate attention.

Q grunted in response and hung up, phone slipping from his fingers. He had no words left for how he felt… exposed like a wire without cover and too tired to believe, shaky, sick… overall a wreck.

“Are we going in?” James asked, prompted, sounding vaguely cautious. Q got the urge from nowhere to bite him because _no_ he didn’t _want_ to go in!

But that wasn’t what James had asked. So instead he bit his tongue and fought out of bed with a lot more violence and floundering than strictly necessary, but he couldn’t coordinate his own limbs and there was a thick, unrelenting buzzing smothering his head that he hadn’t felt since his first carried-away weeklong coding attempts.

Quite abruptly, Q had a fierce longing that his brothers were here to be their usual interfering selves… they’d probably shut down MI6 if they knew, he thought… it was always hard to tell if they would be possessive and tuck him away somewhere or just get under his feet and make things worse till he wanted to scream.

“ _Bloody_ hormones.” Q chocked out and threw his glasses on the floor in a fit of pique so that he could get to and rub his sleep-damp eyes. James’ hand snaked carefully under his chin and around to his hair. Q hadn’t even heard the man move. “It’s not even the size of a grape!” Q chocked out, utterly appalled to find his voice strangling into tears, hot splashes escaping his eyes.

“Q-” He let out a wretched wailing noise, unsure if he was more horrified and humiliated at his pathetic fit of tears or just plain ‘I don’t even fucking care’ tired.

James’ arms wrapped around him as Q dissolved into a puddle of disgusting emotionality, quickly having to support his weight when the omega just completely lost the will to even care if he made a bigger scene. The alpha eased him to the ground, and Q hated himself for being unable to stop crying, which of course only made it so much worse. The duvet was pulled off their bed and the soft press around him, combined with James’ arms and scent, managed to make Q both boneless and riddled with despair.

He _couldn’t_ go in again, he couldn’t stand to stay awake any longer. He was so tired he wanted to be sick. And if he was sick again right now Q was sure he would die.

What was he meant to do? He was the bloody quartermaster, he had to go in, he had to do his job because nobody else could and oh _God_ he was going to have to go in! Q’s entire body wretched at the idea and seized him so completely in torn desperation and anxiety that he thrashed in James’ arms, hands coming to hit the alphas chest for no good-fucking-reason!

“Shit, Q-easy! Easy, calm down love, please.” Oh, Q was only too aware that he was completely and irrationally hysterical. There was also absolutely nothing he could do right now to stop himself. Instead of try he whined through his sobs and turned, regretful and apologetically, to bite and latch on to James’ upper arm. It wasn’t hard, James didn’t even flinch at the teeth digging into his bicep, but Q couldn’t let go, and instead remained there in some half feral state biting onto the only arms prepared to support him.

Distantly, everything was distant like he was already half asleep, Q felt his body still when James’ hand squeezed the back of his neck groundingly.

“That’s it. You’re not going in. Not tonight.”

It was a sign of his state that Q felt any guilt blindingly swamped by utter relief that left him limp with sobs, releasing James’ arm to slump down.

“Q, open your eyes for me, come on.” He did, barely, and James kissed him for the effort, sending a whirling string of ‘alpha alpha alpha’ into Q’s fuzzy head.

Strong arms slipped from around him, not that Q particularly worried, far too caught up in almost heartbreaking relief, and the omega slumped happily enough to the floor in a careless heap, not moving, just sobbing on the carpet.

Good grief this had to be an all time low.

A few minutes passed before James returned to scoop Q up, loose limbs, blanket and everything, and settled down with his mate on the sofa. The omega managed to squirm around until he was cocooned securely in all the blanket and body he could reach.

James was quiet, solid, and pulling Q into his crush-zone nicely. Open kisses were pressed to his forehead and temple as Q let his alpha overwhelm him. The smothering coils of inability to cope loosened gradually and allowed him to drift into a fitful and teary doze.

By the time James was coaxing and nudging him awake, Q felt as if a whole lifetime had passed and he was still crying, albeit barely.

“Q, dear, can you take a look at something for me?” Exhausted, heavy limbed and uncoordinated, Q sat up with James’ help and rubbed his eyes blearily. His alpha’s familiar firm and confident hands manhandled Q into a non-tip-able position in the corner of the sofa and handed him a laptop.

Q took it, because it was a laptop so it must be his even if it belonged to James, and he numbly stroked the keys before looking up at his mate’s fuzzy blue eyes for instruction. Because he’d work, James had evidently managed to enable him to do what he needed to do from home, but he didn’t have enough wits about him to remember what situation had gotten him into this state. Carefully the alpha slid Q’s glasses on and the world sharpened. James looked handsomely in control and gentle. Q somewhat got the impression that he should be more focused on working than wanting to curl up and cry…he also had the strange desire to eat the sofa in the hope of retaining food.

“Q branch are trying to crack a computer, you need to give them instructions.” There was still a bitter, petulant stab of ‘I don’t want to!’ that made his eyes water, but Q tried to suck it up a bit harder now.

“Okay.” He looked at the computer, where there was a chat-box and command window enabled, and James kissed him carefully under the ear.

Q worked, and sobbed quietly, mostly just brushing away tears and watching his hands tremble, but the work wasn’t really too bad. And he had James, who alternated between rubbing the omega’s shoulders, feeding him ginger tea and biscuits, and wiping his eyes.

Altogether, Q felt quite idiotic and thoroughly fed up by the time his branch had managed to get into the computer, and a whole lot like he had been offered a lifeline for 24 hours.

He slid the laptop shut, and looked for James, who came over and pulled his unresisting body close.

“Thank you,” Q managed, voice warbling a bit but full of gratitude.

“You scared me half to death there.” James admitted. Q felt awful at the idea. Despite James being the one with the difficult job Q was the one pulling insanity out of the bag.

“I’m sorry,” He whispered, unable to be any more fluent than that, and nuzzled until he could kiss up James’ warm neck, nose meeting stubble at the top.

“What do you need?” James was pulling himself back together, at least. Q found that he was still struggling to not chew on whatever was nearest in frustration.

“I need to eat. And sleep. And you.” Not his most coherent, but Q found he couldn’t care. He was trying, but exhaustion was still lagging at him.

“I’ll get you something.” James promised, and Q managed to pull him down for a particularly sloppy attempt at kissing. It was just nice to be able to see his mate’s face.

“I think you’re eyes are pretty.” He announced, and watched James’ amused smile and raised eyebrow with delight before reaching out to try and touch them, closing eyelids with gentle fingers just to hear James laugh at him. Q managed to smile. “I’m sorry I worried you, I don’t know what came over me.” James closed a hand around Q’s and kissed his fingers, pausing to suck the tip of his index one. Q stroked his face a bit clumsily. Slightly humiliated at himself.

“I do, you’re exhausted, and perfectly within your rights to have a minor break down.” James fixed him with a decided look. “I will, however, not let it happen again. I’m finding you food, and I’ve talked to M. You might have to accept taking naps in your office again.” James warned, and Q found it in himself to laugh, a little resentful of the bed in his office, but if he could catch naps in the day when there were quiet moments it could be a lifesaver.

“I can manage that.” He nodded, and James looked relieved, pulling him into a more masterful kiss than the one Q had just attempted.

-00Q00-

Thankful of the weekend and the reprieve that James had granted him, along with his own assurance that he’d be initiating R-duties from next week, the pair took a walk in a nearby park lined with little shops. Q appreciated the fresh air and James held him close.

He felt bad for scaring his mate yet again for all of six seconds, because at that point the most heavenly aroma drifted through the air to him.

“Ooh! Oh what is that?” James looked at him, sniffed, and looked at a stall with a raised eyebrow.

“The cheese stall?” The alpha sounded faintly unnerved, Q’s eyes closed in dizzy desperation.

“God please, please please please.” He made for the stall, pulling out money with a ferocious need, practically drooling.

“Good morning! How can I-“

“That one! I need it.” Q demanded, pointing at some normally abhorrent looking blue-green mouldy concoction… Right now it looked like god’s gift to omega-kind.

Three pounds lighter and a cheese-block heavier Q turned to where James was standing a few meters away and ripped off the paper viciously before biting into the dairy product. The strength of the thing was overwhelming, and completely perfect. Q nearly fainted in delight and relief.

“Mm thank God.” His voice was reverent as he swallowed down a mouthful of cheese and gobbled up another to chew. James’ small huffs of incredulous laughter filtered through his cheese-ecstasy. His mate was smirking softly, but there was relief in those blindingly blue eyes. Q ate some more cheese to fill the impasse.

“I take it your cravings have hit then.” Q swallowed the cheese thickly.

“Yes…” Q looked up, sharply. “Don’t you dare judge me for this.” James’ head tilted fondly with a smile and gentle frown, those secret soft looks reserved only for Q, one hand slid to push unruly hair back from the omega’s face.

“You’re eating, Q.” He said, simply. Q managed to smile before stuffing more cheese unattractively into his mouth. James snorted.

“Charming, love.”

“I’m so happy I don’t even care.” Q hummed, eyes closing as he savoured the strong taste and creamy flavour, licking his lips ineffectively. James pulled him close by the head and bent to lap some crumbs off Q’s mouth. Q batted at him.

“No, get off! The cheese is _mine_!” James burst into laughter and kissed his hair instead.

“Good thing you’re gorgeous, genius.” Q happily munched on his cheese and leaned in snugly instead of reply.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soo...I hope that was okay! Sorry for giving Q a breakdown...but I've experienced extreme tiredness, I'm sure we all have, and at some point rationality just goes out the window.  
> Anyway thanks for reading! Soon(ish) will be more Blasty growth and more check ups. Thanks for reading n_n
> 
> Oh yeah, I enjoyed the reference to the Holmes brothers and first heats in here, because that's always something that I find fun to write about...I might be tempted to at some point if I can do it without getting carried away...


	8. H0: No news until 10 weeks; H1: Everyone already knows by 10 weeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh I may have smutted again... *smacks face*  
> In other news, I view Dane Cooper (new R) as looking like the ever smexy Dominic Cooper (hence name, BOOYEAH I'm original!) Just incase anyone wanted a reference. n_n  
> [HTML text will also be the death of me, just saying...]

Q was approaching eight and a half weeks when Blasty made a milestone.

James had been taking the pleasure of updating their pup’s growth chart whilst Q gulped down ice cream on the sofa like it was going out of date. Filling in the little stroke of line according to the growth of about a millimetre/day, the agent raised his eyebrows with a smile.

“Q my love,”

“Mmm?”

“Blasty’s broken one and a half centimetres.” The smile in his voice became more pronounced as Q exclaimed and jumped up from the sofa to dash over, ice cream tub skittering onto the table.

“Now isn’t that something?” Q traced the line with a smile that then turned into a frown. “That’s getting pretty big…” James watched him measure the distance with his fingers and maintain it with practiced ease as he pushed up his top to test against his still-flat belly. “…Or not.”

James had to agree, compared to the not considerable expanse of his mate’s stomach; their pup-to-be seemed awfully inconsequential. Q hummed thoughtfully.

“Well, I suppose that’s embryos for you.” James knelt down on impulse to sniff at Q’s stomach.

“I wish we could smell something. Other than the change in your scent I can’t tell anything’s different.” Q paused above him.

“My scent’s changed?” James pressed a kiss to him and hummed standing up. “Not too much, just become a bit…softer? It’s hard to say, not like the ripeness of your heat, that’s hot and sweet and deep… but just as intoxicating.” Q blushed and licked James’ throat whilst the alpha placed his hands around his omega’s waist and the small of his back. “Are you sure you’re going to start showing in three weeks? Seems like Blasty could get lost in there-“

Q laughed and pushed James away by the chest, his long fingers stroking over pectorals and smiling in that way that made the corners of his eyes turn up.

“It’s the placenta that shows, not the embryo, so it’s a bit bigger… Hmm, Blasty should have about 21 millimetres on himself by then, so under four centimetres… Doesn’t seem likely does it, unless the growth-speed changes.” James pouted a bit and slid his hands up under Q’s top to his neck and shoulder blades, pulling him close.

“Too long. I’ll just have to shove a pillow up your top. Or fatten you up more, which would you prefer?”

“Neither,” the word was grimaced, “just be patient… let me get to my ice cream,” Q demanded, trying to untangle himself from what James thought personally was quite a good impression of an octopus. He allowed his mate’s grabby hands to reclaim the ice cream and proceeded to try and steal it from Q’s mouth.

“Mmm no! Bad!” The omega protested, clearly trying hard not to laugh and fighting James off with a spoon at the same time. The alpha growled playfully and swiftly moved them both to upend Q on the couch. Q promptly began a very ineffective wrestling match against the double oh agent, who disarmed him of the spoon and ice cream before giving a mock-roar and pouncing, latching onto the omega’s throat.

Q squeaked, writhed, and inexplicably managed to slip free entirely from between James’ legs.

“Victory!” The alpha watched on in bemusement as Q made an entirely unnecessary pounce onto the coffee table for his food and initiated the most ridiculous and adorable victory-dance Bond had every seen. Complete with hip swaying and a musicallised-version of Churchill’s speech, including voice impersonation.

“We shall _fight_ them in the- _fields_ , we shall fight them on the _landing-grounds_ , we shall _never surrender_ the ice cream- _James_!” The alpha had interrupted by simply scooping Q’s legs out from under him and catching him close when he fell. “I was very busy winning!” Q accused, pouting slightly.

“I know love,” James smirked, licking ice cream off the omega’s lips and making him whine and squirm. Q really didn’t like sharing his food, a weird omega quirk. “But you misquoted Churchill-“

“I-I abbreviated!” Q spluttered.

“It is against all the rules of MI6 and in fact the nation that a quartermaster misquote Churchill. In fact I believe the words ‘court marshal’ and ‘government hearing’ crop up somewhere.” He smirked, thoughtfully.

“I hate you. You ruined victory dance time…” James waited for it. “And I’ll have you know that I can quote the _entirety_ of that speech backwards word for word.” The larger man’s smirk turned positively lethal.

“Prove it.”

What followed would perhaps have the neighbours wondering just what the couple in 3B were doing to inspire such raucous laughter in each other on a Tuesday evening.

 

-00Q00-

 

“Bond, what’s this I hear about you experimenting with the new double-oh stream?” James hadn’t been expecting to run into M on the way to Q-branch for lunch. He shrugged.

“Their teaching methods seemed outdated, thought I could offer some perspective.” M eyed him as they walked, appraisingly. Bond held the man’s gaze steadily. Finally, the other alpha nodded.

“Not a bad idea, maybe we’ll get some more promising starts with new instruction.” James was both surprised and chuffed at the acceptance. “Consider yourself deployed. Your mission; get me some bloody double oh’s.” James nodded and opened the office door for the man automatically. “I want the layout for your first lesson on my desk by tomorrow morning, and I’ll arrange a daily time for you to begin.”

“With pleasure, M.” Bond replied, slightly taken aback, but not enough to truly show, instead he shook M’s hand and tilted his head to ask. “How do you feel about cage fighting?”

“Good God.” M replied, and dropped his hand with an expression of mute horror. “As long as I get the details, and you get me good agents, take them bloody sewer diving if you think it’s necessary.” He raised an exasperated and conspiratorial eyebrow. “Never hurt any agent to pick up a few scrapes before getting their toes officially wet.”

With that the man headed down to Q’s office, who looked up and waved out someone he seemed to be having a deep conversation with.

Bond followed behind M, smug smirk coating his face as he contemplated all the _fun_ he could have with the brash young upstarts… maybe he should get Alec involved when he was next back in country… Come to think of it, he should really let the man know Q was pregnant too.

They were still officially waiting for the 10-week mark, as per Q’s wishes, but James felt a little guilty about concealing it from his best friend.

M talked to Q about his program that extensively monitored the networks of their equivalents all over the world; requesting an information re-call to see if they could do anything to alleviate the danger level, maybe go on the offensive to curb some of these attacks of suspicion. James saw Q manage through most of the meeting before pressing his hand up to his mouth and halting M with the other. James leapt into action and dragged the bin over as Q lurched for the corner.

The head of MI6 looked on sympathetically as James rubbed his omega’s back.

“Pup sickness no better then?” He questioned when Q came up for air and washed out his mouth, straightening his glasses professionally.

“Oh no, its better, at least I can eat again now.” He moved back to the desk gingerly and managed a smile. “And now that the potential R’s are manning days and missions under my supervision, and taking turns on night duty, I can sleep too.” Q pulled up a series of screens to get information to M.

“All in all a marked improvement.” M offered one last sympathetic look to the both of them and stood up from where he’d been leaning on the desk.

“Glad you’re feeling better, my mate managed to escape his pup sickness once he started to show, hopefully you’ll be the same.” Q nodded at the well wishing as the alpha left, whilst James just stared after him in surprise.

“Always had him tagged as a female-omega type myself…” Q contemplated for a moment.

“I know what you mean, but then, I’d have pegged you for the same before I started feeling like an omega again and you started flirting and winning me over.” James’ smile became smug again. Q typed a bit longer and then glanced up apologetically. “Sorry, give me twenty minutes? I’ve just got to start the inflow of data and monitor to make sure nothing gets noticed…” Q looked at the door and begun heading out of his office, still talking. “In fact I should get one of the R’s in to give them some practice too… Dane, in here please.”

The man he’d been talking to came in with a chipper smile, and froze upon seeing Bond.

James hadn’t met him before, though he’d seen him down in R&D and on a desk a couple of times. He seemed slightly older than Q’s age with slicked-back hair and a short moustache/beard combo, dressed smartly in a waistcoat tie and shirt. Q gestured to James.

“My mate, James Bond, agent double oh seven. James this is Dane Cooper, MI5’s answer to an R&D quartermaster but not without computer credentials. Transfer.” Dane nodded to James in a way that stated he was impressed but used to working with agents.

James had worked with MI5 a handful of times, they seemed to change teams more frequently than Moneypenny changed dresses on a mission.

“Why the transfer?” He questioned, Dane piped up, unperturbed by the question.

“More of a challenge.” He responded, a bit boyish but confident… James realised with some surprise that he was a beta, a high one. He had found the most ‘dominant’ creature in Q branch… although of course, his Q could, and frequently did, put alphas in their places.

He watched them work, Dane picking up on things with a competency that seemed to please Q, for half an hour. At that point Q bid the beta go keep an eye on things and report back to him should anything come up. Dane left with the same positive and eager nature as on his way in, casting a smile at Q and his stomach before nodding at James.

Well, there was evidence that at least one person in Q branch knew about his omega’s pregnancy.

“Seems confident.” James remarked.

“Yes…” A sneaky grin stole over Q’s face. “I’m going to start his mission training this afternoon, 006 is infiltrating a Bulgarian base at three… if all goes well hopefully I’ll leave him in charge a full day tomorrow and night duty on Thursday. Then we’ll see if he’s in the running.

James was torn between sharing in brutal glee at the thought of pitting a potential R against Alec and a strange mixed urge to blurt to his friend that his mate was pregnant or to fly out and join him…

“You alright?” Q asked softly, calmly, James could read in his eyes that he’d picked up on the alpha’s emotions and their source.

“Just strange.” James shrugged in a noncommittal manner. Q offered a small smile.

“I’d like you to be able to go out there too, for you, as long as it was safe… but for what its worth, I’m happy you’re here.” James’ heart melted a bit, that Q could want him to still do his dangerous and risky job meant more than he could express, he moved over and, regardless of work, pulled Q into a tight hug.

The omega relaxed and let James inhale him slowly, remaining placid. The alpha lost himself in Q’s scent and the feeling of being home, belonging.

Truly each mission away from Q had hurt, and he didn’t miss that in the slightest.

One day, he’d just have to convince Q to go travelling with him, because that was one thing he wasn’t willing to give up. And he wanted their pup to know the love of travel, cultures, people, places… He wanted Q to know that too, wanted to share it with him. Even if it meant he took Q and an infant on a round-the-world walking, cycling, boat, train and bus tour.

Maybe if it didn’t include planes he could convince Q, even if they just started with Scotland it would be a stepping stone to something bigger.

Maybe he’d suggest it for when Q went on maternity leave… Maybe Alec could come along too!

 

-00Q00-

Q had been enjoying a relatively relaxed week compared to the one before, with fewer night calls now that there was a designated temporary R most nights. Not only had the situation died down a bit, but also the new R’s seemed determined to prove themselves at all costs. He hadn’t been woken at night to go into the office more than twice, and both times he’d taken a kip on the bed in his office the next day at convenient times.

On Thursday evening, the Q-Branch phone rang again. James grumbled, though as always he was awake at once, and pulled Q close.

“No, you’re too warm to go in.” He complained, Q, still half asleep, simply rubbed his eyes and grabbed blindly for the phone, knocking it onto the floor.

“Oh shit.” He mumbled, and snatched it off the carpet to answer.

“Q, what’s the situation?” He breathed out, preparing to get out of bed and feeling a little nauseous. Apparently Blasty didn’t enjoy being woken up either.

 _“Q! What the bloody hell are you doing out of branch?”_ Both omega and alpha sat up as the voice cracked through the phone.

“Alec?” James questioned, inaudible to the man on the other end.

 _“I just called up and had your new assistant talking me through a bit of coding.”_ Q lurched upright.

“What happened, status, did something go wrong?” Q flailed to grab his laptop and open it.

 _“Actually, it was fine, bit slow, nothing I couldn’t handle. Just wondering where you were, you fed me through to the same bloke yesterday too. I miss our chats.”_ Q sighed and slammed his laptop shut, the man’s smirk was evident.

“And you decided you had to tell me that now? Rather than wait all of the twenty four hours before you bring me back whatever remains of your equipment?” James made grabby hands for the phone and Q batted him off.

 _“Oh, is it night where you are?”_ He sounded completely innocent and devious.

“You’re in Bulgaria, there’s hardly a t-oh for God’s sake!” Q forgot all about the phone in his hand, last words muffled by his own hand as he stumbled to the bathroom and promptly began retching into the toilet.

 _“Q? Q! Shit are you being sick?”_ Q could have laughed, except he was busy. James came in and slid down beside him, rubbing his back with one hand and untangling the phone with the other.

“Alec, sorry, Q’s a bit busy.” Q kicked Bond spitefully, causing a laugh. Evidently in his flounder to the bathroom he’d managed to press speaker because he could hear Alec’s reply.

 _“James! Been wondering where you got to… you sure Q doesn’t need to go to medical?”_ It was bloody ridiculous; the two alphas’ could be completely overprotective when it came to their quartermaster and pointedly refuse to get medical help for themselves. 006 had only gotten worse when James and Q mated; claiming himself to be their ‘pack brother’ and taking them out for celebratory ‘pack drinks’. James had been happy anyway. Q had long since surrendered himself to the fact that by mating with his alpha he’d gained Alec in some sort of bizarre ‘best mate’ custody adoption.

To be fair, he had grown fond of the man. Ridiculous and reckless though he undoubtedly was.

“No, he’s fine.” James carded fingers soothingly through the omega’s hair whilst Q coughed miserably into the toilet.

 _“You don’t sound worried… why don’t you sound worried?”_ There was a pause whilst 006 gasped dramatically and hooted with laughter loud enough to echo in the bathroom. _“James you sly dog you got him pregnant didn’t you!”_

Q could _feel_ James’ smugness grinning proudly down at him.

“You _noticed_.” He replied, a mocking sort of pleased fondness in his voice that barely disguised how pleased and fond he was.

“James! Ten weeks! How many times do I have to say it?” Q blurted up from the floor, forcing any remaining nausea down.

_“Congratulations Q! How far along are you? Hey, do you know the sex yet, got any names? Can I help?”_

“Noo!” Q wailed, perhaps a tad overdramatically. “What if I miscarry!…” A truly horrible thought occurred to Q. “Oh _God_ what if I already have!” With the speed only a panicked omega could master Q shot to his feet and ran to the drawer where the few remaining pregnancy tests were, snatching out a neat handful, heart hammering.

“Q, Q! _Q_ its _fine_ you’re fine, don’t got through this again-“

“Shut up James! We have no way of knowing otherwise!” He pushed back to the toilet and lined himself up with one of the sticks. “Take Alec outside!”

 _“Oh no, I’m not missing this! You’ve managed to turn him neurotic!”_ Alec crowed positively gleefully.

“I am not neurotic!” Q snapped out neurotically, drowning out the sound of his own urination.

“Don’t anger him mate." James advised to Alec sombrely.

 _“Wow, Q, you’ve gone and domesticated him.”_ Alec sounded bizarrely awed. Q sighed and put the lid on the test, washing his hands.

“Don’t use the ‘d’ word, it sends us both into anaphylaxis.” Q corrected, chewing his fingers whilst he looked at the test.

“I should hide these from you.” James chastised lightly, wrapping around Q and holding the phone in front of both of them. “Would you like a picture Alec?”

_“Sure!”_

“No!”

“I’ll send you one when it’s positive-“

“It might not be!”

“Q, you’ve been having pup sickness. You’re still pregnant.”

“…Could be a bug.”

_“Hey, if Q’s still pregnant, can I be Godfather?”_

“Double oh six you are _the_ Godfather.”

_“Aw play nice Q, I haven’t even chucked my gun away yet-“_

“ _’Yet’_? What do you mean _‘yet’_? Do you do that on a regular occurrence?” Q demanded, putting his hands on his hips and focussing the phone with his full wrath.

_“…Well I-“_

“Do you want to be sent out with a bubble gun?”

 _“It’s the only way I get a new one!”_ Alec whined, pleadingly. _“James, back me up mate!”_

“I always get new guns.” James purred, snaking himself around Q and kissing his neck.

 _“Bloody favouritism.”_ 006 spat, but without true malice, James chuckled smugly again as Q sighed.

“You two are enough of a bloody handful without children.”

“Speaking of, congratulations Q, you’re still pregnant!” James announced merrily, picking the little positive stick up and waving it. Jokes aside, Q sagged a bit in relief. Until their ten-week appointment, he had no proof of his pregnancy other than how much he vomited within the day.

_“Congrats again love birds, so, can I be Godfather?”_

“Yes.” James answered without pause, seriously.

 _“I’m chocked up!”_ He sounded anything but, though he did sound genuinely ecstatic. _“Can I name the pup!?”_

“No!” Q shouted, appalled. “I refuse, point blank, to let you name our pup anything like ‘Walther’ or ‘Boom’ or ‘Glock Explodium Bond’!”

_“Not even a middle name? How about ‘Kisskissbangbang’?”_

“NO! And no naming anything or telling anyone else until ten weeks.” Q demanded, finally, taking a deep breath and holding his hands up as if that would dissuade further argument from the phone. James, leaning his chin over Q’s shoulder, was all smiles and pride, fingers stroking over the omega’s stomach.

“Isn’t this nice Q? You, me, Alec and Blasty” James sounded unbelievably smugly content.

 _“Blasty?”_ Alec queried, frown audible through the phone.

“Pup’s nickname, Q made it up.” Q could see what was coming next as Alec snickered.

_“And he say’s I-“_

“Not a word double oh six, or I’ll make good on that threat of where they put your next microchip-tracker.”

_“…Duly noted… psycho omega you’ve got there mate, don’t piss him off when he gets hormonal.”_

“Oh good grief!” Q exclaimed, truly despairing at 006’s very seriously delivered advice as James barely smothered a booming laugh into his shoulder.

_“One big happy family!”_

 

-00Q00-

 

Monday found Bond spending the night with the double oh recruits at a cage fight. Clearly, though they’d all seen active service before, they weren’t quite prepared for the hand-to-hand aspect of things. James, ever the thoughtful teacher, had entered himself into a fight as well.

It was rather enjoyable, and at least a slight challenge. A couple of bruises, no cracks, later and he was the champion… Some of his recruits weren’t so lucky on the ‘cracks’ front. Though they _had_ won their fights, thankfully, and felt the benefit from their first ‘real life’ fight experience… At least once they stopped whining about their injuries. Honestly, he was sure he’d never complained this much.

Dutifully he herded them into MI6 medical, hoping that they would build up a healthy fear of the area, and went back home.

Slipping into bed beside a gorgeously warm Q was the perfect ending to the day, even if his cheek hurt a bit from a vicious up-cut.

“Mmm you smell like fighting.” Q complained, barely conscious, and tried ineffectively to push Bond off. When all that happed was James hauling him closer and wrapping around him, Q resigned himself to the alpha’s ministrations.

“I’ll change the sheets tomorrow.” Bond assured, and begun kissing Q’s neck.

“Noo I’m tired you monster,” Q slurred accusingly, and began squirming rather delectably against him. James licked under his ear till Q began shivering at the feeling.

“Sorry love.” He smirked, accidently rubbing himself on Q’s leg and feeling his cock stiffen. With a cut off groan James ducked his face into Q’s neck and inhaled roughly, managing to quell the thrusting of his hips. Q turned around and gathered James in until he could lick and kiss over the alpha’s bruised cheek, soothing it into a tingling kind of numbness.

“Don’t blame me if I fall asleep on you.” Q threatened, voice becoming husky as his teeth grazed James’ ear. The alpha growled a little in pleasure and rolled Q over, pausing to lift the omega up enough in order to wrap his arm under the man’s stomach to encourage his hips up.

“Leave it to me.” James assured, lowly, and passed his fingers between the cushioned cheeks of his mate’s arse to spread them. His cock slid easily into the gap, able to feel his omega’s heat nicely.

Slipping his hand out, James found Q’s arousal and begun to tease his fingers over the head and slit. Q bucked, gasping, and bent his leg up to allow James closer in all ways.

The alpha delighted in Q’s writhing for a moment, the friction on his cock, before growling and biting down on the back of Q’s neck, with a hitched whimper and shiver the body beneath him stilled at the command, James’ weight bearing down to help hold him.

“I said, let me do the work.” He reminded, throwing some authority into the words. Q mewled in pleasure and turned his face into the pillow to pant. “Good omega.”

Q full on vibrated at the words. James enjoyed many things in bed, adrenaline high fights for dominance, complete submission, teasing… But tonight, the feeling of Q’s body contained and restrained by his own was intoxicating. And it was rare that they let their alpha and omega out to play. Q whimpered from the praise at surrendering, clearly getting a little heady off it. He wouldn’t have been able to stay still without his mate’s body pressing down on him.

“Shh.” James resumed his fondling, carefully not going anywhere near the omega’s hole, causing Q to whimper and shake, held still enough that he had to just take the attention. Wet heat began dribbling from Q and slicking the alpha’s cock. James began slowly rolling his hips, dragging himself over the wetting entrance and causing Q to moan and writhe as much as he could.

“ _James_ , James please, please-“ James bit him again, sending a shudder down the omega’s spine with a gasp. He continued his slow thrusting and torturous fingers, Q becoming increasingly wet and riled up, a truly impressive amount of slick beginning to get everywhere between them and coating the bed sheets.

“So wet for me Q, you’re acting like you’re in heat.” Q’s muscles bunched under sweat-slicked skin as he failed to squirm like he usually would.

“Pl-ease!” He breathed out again, voice hitching when the head of James’ cock dragged over his loosening entrance the same time the alpha rubbed an index finger over his slit mercilessly. Q dissolved into wordless mewls and shudders, hips held too still to move naturally.

“What do you want Q? Tell me what you need.”

“T-take me, fill me, oh God please-“ Q cut off with a desperate mewl when James began pushing into him, thrusting slow and shallow but firmly, forcing Q to gasp with every push. The stretch must burn a little, but Q was far from complaining, a soft string of pleas and affirmatives running out of him.

The alpha paused when fully seated balls deep into Q, who writhed around as if just to test the fill, butt nudged up against Bond’s hips gorgeously. James brought his hand to cup Q’s cock and balls, eliciting a slightly frenetic spread of legs and whine from Q.

“Just from me, just from me in you, filling you up.”

“God yes,” Q agreed, James growled in pleasure, determined to get Q purring. It was a power trip and a wonder all at once, the hold intimate, possessive, shielding Q from any potential eyes as much as owning him; protective and dominant all at once.

His thrusts began long and deep into Q, a slow drag out that had Q whimpering and a snap into the tight wet heat that left both of them shooting with electric pleasure.

James picked up the pace when his knot begun to swell. Q, able to feel it strain against him on every slide out, became desperate and instinctual. Being pinned down and cupped was evidently on the good side of too much and had him chasing the alpha’s knot, pressing back and clenching around James’ cock in a way that made the blonde’s eyes fizz out with pleasure spots. Still thrusting, relishing in the friction of drag, he almost left it too late, causing Q to wail in plea and buck into him, encouraging his knot inside the willing body. Together their hips came up off the bed, Q’s hands curled into the sheets at his shoulders and back arched as James’ bent over him and used the leverage granted.

Even with that, James’ knot reached the size where he had to thrust almost brutally against Q’s opening to get himself back inside to seal them, the omega crying and writhing in a mix of pleasure and pain as the bulbous base pushed in past its widest point and they almost sucked together, coming down to crash on the mattress, bedsprings creaking. James held tight and saw stars, bucking into Q as his orgasm took over, his omega mewling and squirming around the final swelling inside him.

The alpha’s come spurted out deep inside Q and James felt the omega’s entire body contract sharply with little pants through his orgasm, legs bending up and back arching till his prostate was pressing and rubbing against the knot sealing him. The rhythmic clenching around him left James’ mind blanking out and repeat-firing ecstasy through his spine and synapses.

They came down slowly, loosely, twined together and Q, true to word, falling asleep with contented purring whenever James thrust into him with a fresh spurt of come.

James ran hands over his body and stroked Q’s hair until he passed out fully, relishing the feeling of Q trusting him enough to sleep whilst tied off on his knot, gradually getting filled up.

The alpha stayed awake long enough to arrange the covers over them, wipe Q’s belly free of his own come and manoeuvre them into a dry-spot before falling asleep squeezing the omega’s slick-wet thighs. His other hand drifted naturally into a position to stroke his mate’s stomach, satisfaction pooling in his mind.

 

-00Q00-

 

Q took a change of scenery on Tuesday, he was letting another R ‘run’ the department today, and often the lack of his presence threw up some issues he had cameras watching out for. So, he went to visit James for lunch instead.

The man was in his office, in a strange switch of role-play, and clearly doing some sort of lesson plan, or attempting to. Q smiled fondly and sneaked in the door, James looked up, grinning when he saw the omega and happily dropping his pen.

“Well, this is a nice surprise.” Q smiled and pulled a bag out from behind his back.

“And I brought spoils, raided the branch fridge.” He stalked over, dropped the food on the agent’s desk and slipped into his arms. James, clearly chuffed, pulled Q onto his lap.

“You’re being close.” Q shrugged and delved into the bag.

“Apparently Blasty now has webbed toes and an upper lip. I feel like we’re making progress.” James pressed a kiss to the back of his neck and Q smiled.

Just under two weeks, and they’d be getting into the clear… Sort of. James’ hands on his waist paused and ran up over his trouser waist.

“…Are these old?” Q paused a bit in separating out food, gulping.

“No.” There was a momentous pause, James’ fingers stilling from where they’d been playfully trying, and failing, to sneak between fabric and skin.

“Are you-“

“It’s only bloating. Or something equally unattractive as that.” Q hurried out, not wanting to get his alpha’s hopes of an early bump up. He turned to his mate and met those strikingly blue eyes. “…But that is part of it, it’s the start, maybe.”

James’ slow smile was perhaps the eighth wonder of the world, and Q got lost in it for a moment, his own lips mirroring the motion despite himself.

“Have I told you lately that I love you?” Q burst out laughing without breaking their stare.

“Did you just quote Rod Stewart at me?” James grinned and ducked his head into Q’s neck.

“No.” Q huffed out a laugh and scratched his fingers through James’ blonde hair.

“Next time, try Queen. It promises better results.”

“Is that because you’re a _fat bottomed girl_?” James teased, Q smacked him gently and they both laughed. “Next time I’ll try Frankie Valli.” Q may have melted a little when James begun humming ‘ _can’t take my eyes off you_ ’ and wrapped around him, absently joining in whilst grinning like a fool.

“Double points for smoothness, Mr. Bond.” Q praised softly, massaging James’ scalp. James continued singing and swaying slightly, smile evident in his voice.

Q decided this was possibly his favourite way to spend lunch break.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all enjoyed, this chap was packed with baby, so I hope you guys liked it n_n  
> Threw in Alec because Alec.  
> Not to long too go now till some initial Bondlock ;D


	9. H0: Phone calls are always from Q branch; H1: Phone calls are occasionally from something much worse than Q branch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is a little later than previously guys. I was a bit busy and also needed to write something a bit angsty to get my head back into this. I am back now ;D  
> In other news starting tomorrow I have a job! (oh seasonal vegetable selling joys!) xD And as a result I think writing might slow as I'll only have 1 full day off. I hope to still do once a week updates, but I thought I'd give ya'll a heads up n_n  
> In other other news 100 + reviews! *dances* ...suuure half of them are my replies... but I'm not going to count that ;3  
> Thank you all, you are amazing!

James had come to adore the little updates Q would throw out during the week.

Tuesday evening, Q discovered that Blasty was busy producing muscles this week and some organs. Thursday, after James got back from a 24h mission with his recruits to pick someone at random and follow them without being noticed for the day, Q was measuring his stomach.

“Are you showing?” James begun, excitedly, hurrying over. Q held him put with a raised hand.

“No, but I’m meant to be producing two table spoons of amniotic fluid per week now… so it can’t be long… And I couldn’t get into my trousers comfortably this morning. Still fit, but not nicely.” Sensing some ruffled feathers, James had made sure Q forgot all about his likely weight gain.

It was Friday, however, when Q burst into James’ office during lunch for a second time that week.

“I have news.”

James sat up a bit, adrenalin kicking in.

“What is it?” Thinking emergency mission.

“God I can’t believe I missed it.” Q ranted as he came in fully, James now thinking security breach.

“As of this week, Blasty is officially no longer an embryo.”

For a brief, horrible moment, James’ entire world died, imploded, crumbled like dusty ruins. Q clearly saw his face drain of colour and dashed over, waving his hands and practically ricocheting off the desk.

“No no no! No James not like that! Blasty’s a foetus! Just more developed! It’s fine, everything’s fine-“

James dragged him into a tight hug, squeezing the slender frame against his own and breathing in Q’s scent to chase away the lingering terror.

He hadn’t known just how it would feel, just how attached he was to something the size of an olive… was this how Q had been feeling all this time whenever he worried?

“Shh, shh,” Q soothed him gently, stroking the alpha’s head and neck with relaxing motions.

“I’m sorry.” James breathed out, and knelt down to wrap his arms around Q’s waist, nosing his cardigan and shirt up to nuzzle into his stomach. It was still flat, but more filled out than he had ever seen, slightly squishier than normal whilst the omega made a nice comfy home for their pup.

“Whatever for?” Q asked, curiously.

“If this is how you’ve been feeling whenever you worried; like half your world was about to end, then I deserve to be shot for not taking you seriously.” Q breathed out at length for a minute as he slid down beside James, holding the alpha’s face in his hands.

“Can we make a deal?” James frowned. “Whatever happens, whether… whether I loose our pup or not-“ James pulled Q in with an agonised growl. Not just at the thought, but at Q’s suggestion that he was solely responsible if their pup miscarried within him. He wished he had the words to tell Q that just wasn’t true; James would sooner die than blame him for that, he hoped to God that that would always be true.

“That we’ll always have each other, that we’ll stick together? I, I can’t loose you, James, especially not on top of something else…”

“Q,” He couldn’t express the swirl of emotions, nor could he ignore the disquieted calm of his mate in his arms. James’ mind drifted unsupervised for a moment into a realm where he and Q fell apart, where they’d lost their pup and James drove Q away, or they fell apart… he couldn’t picture it, wouldn’t. They weren’t like other mated pairs, they were both accustomed to loss on a wide scale, and they had more holding them together than a quick bond and a baby.

“We’ll never turn on each other.” James added, growling through it.

“Or ourselves.” Q reminded, only a little pointedly.

“Or ourselves.” James pointed right back. They breathed together for a while.

“I’m not planning on anything happening, but I’d feel better if we could put a plan in place anyway.” James was all for contingency plans.

“Deal. We’ll have each other, no matter what.”

“Thank you.” Q breathed out, gratefully, and James felt himself sag in some strange post-adrenaline relief where there’d been nothing to worry about in the first place.

He didn’t enjoy planning for the worst any more than Q, but it was ridiculously bolstering to know that they were on the same page, and working together.

England’s most effective team.

 

-00Q00-

 

Blasty’s growth seemed to be unstoppable. Now that he was technically a foetus Q called to confirm a second check up with Dr Darcy for Tuesday, when he’d be 10 weeks pregnant. The Quartermaster was fairly sure that James could tell he was looking forwards to seeing the progress on the sonogram again… Now that he was fairly sure the thing growing inside him at a rate of knots more closely resembled a human being rather than a blob or a lizard-baby. He hoped that was the case at least.

After that, considering it was the weekend tomorrow and James was taking a shower, Q crawled into bed at 6:30. Why? He was tired. Did he care? Nope, he wanted to sleep.

It was absurd, but apparently quite natural at this stage in pregnancy. Q didn’t appreciate his body deciding all it wanted to do was drag him to the nearest padded surface but there was little he could do except go with it. Besides, if sleeping all evening and night and weekend meant he was able to remain on his feet during the week then he was happy. Sort of.

Q woke from his doze when James rolled him over to peel off his work clothes. The omega attempted to assist in the task without any coordination. James chuckled at him and gently eased his flailing limbs from too many layers. By the time Q had been helped to wriggle into pyjamas and a jumper, he was dosing again.

James hummed a bit and lifted him up, despite protests, depositing him on the couch with a blanket. Q mumbled a bit in annoyance, and pushed the cushions into comfortable positions before snuggling in again. He happily switched to latching onto James once the alpha sat next to him.

Dinner was becoming a strange affair for the pair of them, considering it involved considerably more pickles and strong cheeses than it ever had before. Q managed to pull himself from his cocoon long enough to join his mate in the kitchen where they prepared a bizarre concoction of ingredients Q could eat into something vaguely healthy.

“Pass the stilton, love.”

“…I finished that one yesterday, here, use the Cashel Blue.”

“Greedy monster.”

“Shush.” Q reprimanded James with a hip-bump and the man wound a muscled arm around his waist, sticking them together.

“Here, try.” He held out a spoon to Q who licked it, and delighted in the cheesiness. “Good?”

“Perfect.” James shook his head with a grin.

“I’d never have imagined the ability to make macaroni cheese would be so handy one day.” Q raised his eyebrows and hummed in agreement.

“Mmm, don’t forget the pepper and pickle dressing.” He demanded, turning to grab the saucepan he’d been working on and banging it down next to the sauce and pasta.

He didn’t miss the look of pain on James’ face, for a man used to glamorous dining this was probably scarring in some way.

Q made a mental note to take him out to dinner somewhere nice tomorrow… possibly somewhere French; they would have strong food right? He could just eat off the cheese board all evening.

It was only nine when Q went to bed. Ten when James joined him, still reading. It was only ten thirty when the phone rang, but Q still woke with angry flails and curses.

“I knew he wouldn’t manage, I could see it in his eyes!” Q accused incoherently as he grappled for the work phone, picturing the mental slap he wanted to give potential-R no. 3.

“Err, Q?” James reached over as Q grabbed the work phone and looked at it, blankly, it wasn’t ringing, not even the right tone. “It’s the other one.” Q blinked at James, looked around, and indeed saw his other, personal, phone vibrating and trilling with the Darth Vader theme.

“Oh, bollocks.” He commented blankly. James was simply looking perplexed as Q lent up and snatched the offending object, he eyed it for a moment before answering, wondering why on earth he was being called. He hadn’t missed some family event had he? They didn’t really have those any more… Frowning a little Q pressed answer and brought the phone to his ear.

“Mycroft?” James sharpened next to him in surprise, and listened without shame. Q tried to focus on just his brother for now, and James later, the man was hard enough to understand sometimes without a distracting mate and a half-asleep mind. “To what do I owe the surprise?”

 _“Not pleasure? Tut tut Aster where have MI6 been keeping your manners?”_ Q rolled his eyes a little, Mycroft had always been such a stickler for ceremony, bless. He flumped over onto his back, judging from the tone that this wouldn’t be a conversation requiring him to jump into immediate action, for once.

“I assume its somewhere between the tea bags and the threat level. I was sleeping, Mycroft.”

 _“Sleeping, at this time? You’re not due for a heat for three weeks.”_ Q’s hand slapped into his face, startling James, as he flushed in embarrassment.

“Dear _God_ stop keeping track of that, please! I don’t even live with you anymore, it isn’t necessary!”

_“Quite the contrary my dear little star-“_

“Don’t use the nickname. I’m hanging up-“

_“I’ll call back if you do.”_

“I’ll turn it off.”

 _“I’ll call your office, do stop behaving like a pup, Aster.”_ Q grumbled petulantly for a moment, hand finding James’ absently on the blankets.

“Fine, what do you want?” James let him toy with their fingers, occasionally squeezing slightly.

_“The terror level, any chance of down-grading it, the PM’s getting frightfully antsy”_

“No. Don’t interfere with my work or I’ll black-list your bank accounts again.” The barely-contained huff of fury was both audible and immensely satisfying. Q allowed himself a smirk.

 _“Don’t be a prat Aster, it doesn’t suit you.”_ Mycroft’s reprimand was fairly displeased. Q bit his lips to not giggle. He’d always had the unfortunate habit of finding his brother’s far too amusing when they took themselves seriously.

“My attitude aside, the terror level isn’t my decision, but even if it was I wouldn’t change it.” He answered, smile evident in his words.

 _“Alright then, I suppose something else will have to be arranged for the PM, honestly Q, sometimes I wonder how that man came to be in that position at all.”_ Q sighed a little, half fond, half exasperated. Back to being the sounding board then. Maybe it was because he was an omega and unthreatening, but Mycroft had always ranted to Q when he needed a reprieve, evidently his eldest brother was stressed.

“You alright Mycroft?” He questioned lightly, gently, he was willing to listen for a bit but he did hate the round a bout games they played. The man in his ear sighed sharply.

 _“You recall Sherlock’s stunt a year or so ago?”_ As if either of them would forget the date.

“Yes.” He bit out, shortly, not particularly wanting to remember that particular week until Sherlock had come crashing through his door, very much alive and nearly making Q shoot him in fright. Thankfully James had been on an extended mission out of comms, so Q hadn’t had to call him up grief-stricken at his brother’s death only to then inform him it had been a hoax. Wouldn’t have been the best introduction to the family.

Sherlock had stayed a week whilst Q helped him scrub out his trail, listening to him rant and rave, worry about John, about whether he could come back. Not that he’d said it in strict words, but Q was a long-serving ear for both his brothers when they simply couldn’t cope anymore, he knew how to read between the lines. He hadn’t objected when Sherlock had stolen into his and James’ bed to pile-sleep with him for wordless comfort, nor when the man spent the week nosing through his apartment and commenting on him and James in his usual scathing manner. Sherlock hadn’t tried to apologise for the intrusion or the actions, and Q hadn’t apologised about keeping his mating with James a secret. When his brother had left he had even had enough time to air the apartment before James got back a week and a half later and somewhat compose himself.

It was hardly his fondest memory, but Q supposed he’d performed a certain service his brother may be grateful of. He’d had a few scathing messages and hints to let Sherlock meet James since, and he’d evidently let slip to Mycroft given the upswing in surveillance attempts he’d had to thwart.

Maybe they were being protective, but they’d never done it with particular grace and quite frankly Q hadn’t felt the need to clue them in on much for good span of years in his life… Pretty much since leaving home up to the time of Sherlock’s ‘death’.

But… they always seemed to end up in each others’ lives regardless. And somehow keeping a pregnancy from them seemed an outrageous level of deceit, especially since he’d been thoroughly chastised for keeping the fact of his mating a secret. For everything else, Q didn’t actually hate them. It was human nature to seek help when you were in your worst moments; he’d just never asked to return the favour in his own times of strife. When he was ill, or upset, he didn’t want any extra stress, and the Holmes family only grew more deranged and cagey as they aged, apparently.

It hadn’t been until the Q-Branch explosion that they found out he worked for MI6 as R, and as soon as they discovered that he was made Q. Really, it had gotten a bit ridiculous, Q could admit that.

 _“Well, our dear brother has decided to cut off all communication with me since then. It is becoming rather tedious.”_ Q sighed and removed his hand from James’ to rub through his hair.

“I’m not spying on him for you Mycroft, or hacking him, I’ve got better things to do than bridge the gap.” He turned to James, who was watching him closely, and rolled his eyes exaggeratedly. The man’s gorgeous and cheeky grin filled the room whilst Mycroft ranted aimlessly for a bit at him. James slipped over next to him sinuously, making Q grin too, and settled with a warm arm around the omega’s waist, chin dropping with a pleasant weight onto his shoulder and pressing a kiss into his neck. Q held the phone away for a moment to kiss him, smiling into each other at the deception and the man ranting unknowingly on the other end.

 _“Aster, do you agree with anything I’ve been saying?”_ Q pulled back, smothering his laugh at the audible sucking noise and shaking with giggles whilst James laughed into his shoulder silently.

“S-sorry brother. Yes, yes he is very tedious.” Mycroft huffed.

 _“And how is your muscle-bound alpha?”_ He commented dryly. Q stroked through James’ hair in satisfaction as he attempted to focus back on his brother.

“Don’t be like that, My. Come on, talk to me, tell me about the PM, and Sherlock, I’m all listening.” Q assured, going so far as to turn onto his side away from James’ distraction. He held the phone away long enough to mouth ‘get some sleep’ at James, receiving a raised eyebrow and stubborn cuddle in return, and turned his attention back to Mycroft with a shake of his head.

 _“Just us?”_ Mycroft queried suspiciously. Q closed his eyes and settled in.

“Just you and me.” His brother huffed and puffed, but eventually went back to talking rather than blowing the house down, Q deciphered through the comments and tone, translating Mycroft into a normal human being in order to compute the conversation.

 _“Well everything’s so fiddly nowadays, but a challenge is what any alpha strives to beat down.”_ He was stressed.

 _“Wasn’t my first choice though he’s managed to show virtues, it all must be very new to him and it is the first time we had a beta PM, takes some organising.”_ The PM was incompetent, and probably all the worse in Mycroft’s eyes for being a beta. They had more fun. Sherlock and John were example enough of that.

 _“Had this wretched dinner the other day, the dining staff were rather excessive, I’ve been left feeling uncomfortable all week from it. Frankly you can’t get the connections nowadays.”_ The diet wasn’t working out quite as well as he’d hoped.

 _“I don’t understand why he persists in shacking up with his ‘life partner’ beta without even admitting they’re practically mated!”_ He was hurt that Sherlock had cut him out, disappointed too.

“I’m sure it will all work out My, Sherlock always comes around in the end.” He knew the nickname seemed to soothe the alpha, unlike Q, who balked at even his birth name. Far as he was concerned, his name was Q; that was who he wanted to be.

 _“Has he ever come around without a family tragedy occurring? And he’s terrible enough at those.”_ Mycroft was evidently fed up. Q felt a momentary spike of sympathy for his oldest brother. There had been a time when the alpha had seemed to have everything, be the only one of them bound for success… now, with Q having James and Sherlock having his doctor, all of them with successful and stable enough careers; Mycroft was the loneliest of them all.

“Give him some time, who knows how he thinks, really.”

 _“You know him better than you think you do Aster. You’re just as capable of our level of thought as you are your coding.”_ Q shuddered.

“No. No I don’t quite think I am.” Mycroft and Sherlock had written the book on manipulation between them, cover to cover. The level of deceit they could sink to in a single sentence actually frightened Q as a child. Unable to understand their social and deductive geniuses in the same way he could comprehend a series of codes or an invention, Q had never quite known what the truths were and where the lies started. It had been far too stressful, and it was only when he had been socialised to enough ‘normal’ people that he understood that he wasn’t some idiot or inept introvert, simply not clever as them… or at least not clever _like_ them, since he was clearly intelligent.

However, the notion stuck from his earliest memories, and until Q had managed to finesse his internal Holmes-Translator Program, he’d have rather hidden than subject himself to the stress of his brothers’ intellect and arguments. Even with Q they rarely had a conversation that started out as a positive interaction. They couldn’t approach it normally, they were constantly negative and disparaging, or pretending they didn’t care, or pretending they did but meaning something else…

It was exhausting and stressful and often unpleasantly bitter… and that was often just what he overheard between the two of them, maybe to Q they weren’t as bad, but by that stage he’d already fabricated all interaction into a cesspool of stress.

Not like James, James who, even with all the deceit his job required, all the bodies and blood, held a joy and fun in the core of him that threatened to overflow or be smothered. Q worshipped it. With marks, Q, MI6 personnel or more of those ‘normal’ people, even with targets, James’ interactions held something that leant towards positivity. He didn’t go in wanting to squash someone, rather rise above, and he was more than willing to have a partner with him in an enjoyable conversation.

Q could get drunk off the positive, easy going banter and teasing conversation.

 _“Well, we shall see about Sherlock. Maybe I’ll try getting in touch with John again.”_ Personally Q thought that was an even worse idea, but didn’t say anything to upset the fruit cart further. Besides, it would probably drive Sherlock and John closer together. _“And how are you, Aster dearest? What’s life like for our quartermaster?”_ There was that mildly mocking tone again, Q noted dryly. _“Anything exciting outside work?”_

Q’s insides squirmed unpleasantly and he flushed, thankful that Mycroft couldn’t see him. This was the moment, wasn’t it?

“Oh… not much, really. Everything’s pretty normal, stable.” He cringed at the tone of his own voice, even James had risen next to him, not that he’d ever fallen asleep. The alpha raised a brow out of the corner of Q’s eye and stroked his stomach. Q reached down to still his fingers, feeling decidedly uncomfortable.

 _“…Why are you home and in bed at eleven on a weekend?”_ Oh, shit. _“Are you ill?”_

“N-not exactly…” Q trailed off, awkwardly, biting his lip. Did he tell Mycroft? If he didn’t then he’d have to call him next week when they’d started telling everybody, he surely couldn’t keep his brothers out of this even if he stood a hope of hiding it. But just how the hell would his oldest brother react to Q’s impregnation by an alpha he’d never met… How would he react to Q being pregnant at all?

 _“Aster…”_ Oh Christ the stern tone. Q could picture him now, finger on the button to summon security to their flat, tearing in and setting off a chain reaction of chaos and disaster… His whole mind cracked under the very thought.

“Mycroft I’m pregnant.” The words left him in a jagged rush, eyes pressed shut, one hand covering them.

Well. That could have been smoother.

“God I hope you’re never interrogated, you’d spill like a sieve.” Q hit James at the dry tone.

“ _Shut up_!” He hissed, more ashamed than angry at James for commenting. It was painfully true; Q had no poker face. Though he’d rather die than betray his colleagues and country, he’d hardly be quartermaster otherwise.

 _“Pregnant?”_ Mycroft managed eventually, voice high, distant… Q had actually managed to stun his brother dumb. He felt rather pleased underneath his knotting stomach. _“You’re certain?”_ James had clearly heard that, given his groan and the action of ducking his head into Q’s shoulder blades.

“Is everyone going to ask us that?”

“Shush, Alec didn’t.” Q pointed out.

_“Who?”_

“Not you, don’t worry.”

_“…Right.”_

Silence reigned long and awkward. Q found himself begging for some kind of response. He somewhat relied on Mycroft to be able to universally cope to be quite honest.

“…Mycroft? I can hear you breathing.” He managed eventually. There was the vague sound of Mycroft pulling himself together.

 _“I shall have to see you myself.”_ The alpha decided with absolute finality. Q balked.

“What? No!” He insisted swiftly, untangling himself from James and the bed to pace out of the room, feeling a bit lightheaded as he went. “Look you don’t need to, its fine-“

 _“It isn’t a matter of need Aster, I want to be involved.”_ Q paused, hands that had automatically been finding the tea bags dropping.

“That… Almost sounded like a normal response for a moment there.” Mycroft sighed.

_“If you’re pregnant-“_

“Please don’t say that, Mycroft, I’ve already spent long enough on that side of the fence.”

_“Well, regardless of semantics, you are my brother, and I will not be left uninformed-“_

“That’s why I told you.” Q pointed out, petulantly, pouring himself a glass of milk instead of tea. A poor substitute but at least he wouldn’t be sick off it.

_“I want to see you, I want to be involved. How is your alpha treating you?”_

“For God’s sake Mycroft!” Q’s distaste for the very thought had him pushing the glass away roughly. “James is my mate, how do you bloody think he’s treating me?”

 _“Well, as I’ve never been allowed the pleasure of meeting him, I’m rather hard pressed to know.”_ The dryness in his brother’s voice put deserts to shame.

“He loves me. We’re in love.” Q waved his hand exasperatedly, wondering if there was even a way for Mycroft to understand. “We’re in love and having a baby, one we’ve wanted for a while, he’s over the moon, we both are! I think he’d defend me from dust particles if I suddenly developed a dislike for them, the other morning he killed some toast for me when it made me nauseous… he’s filling in a growth spreadsheet every day with me! …Can you understand any of that?” His last sentence was something of a plea, because with his brothers he quite honestly didn’t know sometimes.

 _“You always had a particularly individual thought pattern Aster.”_ Q sighed, dropped his hand to the counter and walked back into the main room. James was leaning in the doorway to their bedroom, head tilted with a little frown of concern. The alpha mouthed ‘everything okay?’ at him, and Q tried to smile, but couldn’t, and turned away instead.

“Even if you can’t understand it, you’ll have to accept it. Whatever it is you’re irrationally thinking about him; just stop. We’re happy, and I’m healthy and he’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” Q flicked his gaze over to James, blushing a bit but making firm eye contact, the blonde smiled slowly, lovingly, Q managed one of his own this time.

_“You can’t blame me for being protective-“_

“Then don’t push it.” There was a sharp sigh in his ear.

 _“Were you ever going to tell us you were pregnant?”_ Q gripped the edge of the sofa a bit tighter than necessary to ward off stress.

“After Tuesday. I have a ten week appointment, apparently things are safer after that.” Mycroft hummed in acceptance, which Q was rather grateful for. Sherlock may not have understood the need to hold things back until an acceptable time, but heir oldest brother could at least appreciate not letting information slip prematurely. Sometimes too much so.

 _“Ten weeks…On Tuesday you say? You’re a quarter of the way.”_ Well… that was just terrifying wasn’t it? He hadn’t thought about it like that, made it all seem horrifically close. _“Yes, I think that should be sufficient.”_

“What?” Q managed to get out dazedly, having drifted off.

 _“This alpha of yours will be going with you I presume?”_ Q looked over at James’ questioning expression whilst he plucked at the sofa thread.

“James will be coming-“ James nodded firmly in response to the unasked confirmation in Q’s weak voice. “-yes.”

_“Excellent. Well, that seems the perfect time for us all to become acquainted formally-“_

“N-no, Mycroft that isn’t nes-“

_“Forward me the details, I’ll see you there, shall I try to bring Sherly?”_

“No! No, _no_. One of you is bad enough.” Maybe that wasn’t polite but Q was beyond censoring himself as his heart danced a rumba under his ribs. Mycroft let it go, sounding smug, Q just kept fluttering his gaze from nowhere to James and back, his mate looking increasingly like he wanted to save the omega from a phone conversation.

 _“Settled then. I look forward to seeing you Aster. A bientôt.”_ The call terminated and Q dropped his phone listlessly to his side, James uncrossed his arms and moved forwards cautiously.

“Q?”

“How do you feel about meeting my brother at the doctors on Tuesday?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun dun duuuun! First official Holmes sighting! I know you may well have been hoping for Sherlock first, but a) I thought Mycroft was more likely to find out first (given Sherlock's a bit non-social etc) and b) I genuinely feel some sympathy for Mycroft. He must be the loneliest of all the Holmes'; unable to kindle genuine relationships very easily, maybe because he's too busy looking at the bigger picture. But I think he is deeply fond of his brothers despite this, and often without seeing his own mistakes.
> 
> Sherlock won't take long to follow into the story, and I hope you didn't find this boring, but the dynamic of all 3 of them is one I find particularly interesting.
> 
> On that note, I hope that some of this chapter helps explain M/S/Q's relationship in this somewhat. Love aside, I see their childhood as being highly challenging for each other, and their adult lives fraught with tension. In Q's POV, he understood M&S (xD) so little as a child that they were actually on the frightening side of imposing, given their general negativity in interactions, whereas I see Q as a generally positive-interaction person similar to James (like how quick their chemistry builds in the gallery)
> 
> Okay, I could go on, but I hope that people can understand/weren't bored. I'm not sure what ratio M&S will be in this compared to each other, Sherlock will probably get longer interactions and Mycroft more frequent drop-bys? Not sure, but they will both be in it, so I hope that you can all enjoy some of the eldest Holmes. :3
> 
> *is worried!*
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading, and for all your comments, they really brighten my day to read n_n


	10. H0: James Bond has nothing to worry about; H1: James Bond doesn't even know where to start worrying

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my grief I am _so sorry_ that I kept you waiting so long for this. Work turned out to be more tiring than I had thought, but I'm hopefully back on track now.  
>  Thank you for your patience, so much, and beautiful comments n_n  
> ...I wrote most of this last night during Eurovision, and I hope hope hope its okay! I've only had time for one run through but I wanted to get it out to you tonight in apology.  
> If there are mistakes therefore; I shall try to fix them at a later date :3 ...on the other hand woo 10 chapters!
> 
> For this chapter:  
>  **WARNING:**...Family angst. (I'd be safe rather than sorry in warning-terms...)
> 
> Also...Ben Whishaw's BAFTA win! xD *dances* I may have gotten a bit too excited when I heard his name over the radio the next day ;D So much deservedness. x3

Surprisingly, or maybe naively, James was only mildly nauseously nervous at the idea of meeting Q’s oldest brother. His mate on the other hand seemed beside himself.

James hadn’t been able to get him back to bed on Friday night, or get anything out of him really other than ‘sorry’ and ‘we’ve had some tough times recently’ and finally an admission of ‘I never told them we were mated, Sherlock found out after he hid here after faking his own death’…

He should probably be more concerned about that one, really. Because Q had never lied to him, and even if he did have an active imagination he wasn’t so sleep deprived to make up something like that yet.

It also somewhat explained the level of eccentricity Q seemed to be alluding to whenever he talked about them. He’d have to coax out the full story later, but whilst Q wasn’t looking he did a little digging and indeed found the articles about the reported suicide of the famous detective Sherlock Holmes. It had happened during a particularly nasty mission to Taiwan he’d been off-comms for, quite early in their mating.

A part of him felt unhappy at Q keeping something like that from him, but then there were things about his own past that he couldn’t share… And Q was evidently highly insecure when it came to his family, he could at least understand how ridiculously complicated and emotional the whole situation would have been to explain considering James hadn’t known any of the players and the whole situation had nullified itself rather swiftly.

For now, he’d worry about the older brother: Mycroft. And Q, of course. Because that level of insecurity had to come from somewhere, and James disliked the thought of where with a growing passion. He couldn’t get Q to explain it no matter how hard he tried to ease the spore out of him.

“You’ll understand, when you meet them.” Q managed on Saturday morning, smile a little despairing. “Or maybe you wont, he has a talent for charm, Mycroft. But I think you will.” James toyed with Q’s hair, a slow-working tactic to calm his mate down without alerting him to interference.

“You make them sound like something I should be worried about.” He said calmly, carefully. Q looked at him, a bit apologetic and concerned.

“You don’t need to be.” He assured, and James raised an eyebrow. Q sighed, fiddling with his laptop rather than using it. “Just… It’s all a matter of understanding where we all come from. It’s nothing bad, really, but our family was never… normal. We’re all very clever, in very different ways, ways that aren’t necessarily easy for people to understand and accept. There’s an age gap too, Sherlock’s seven years older than I am and Mycroft’s thirteen. By the time I was born and able to interact with them they already disliked each other quite strongly and were exceedingly bright for their ages. I found it immensely difficult to understand them for a long time in formative years. Inadvertently they rather frightened me, I must admit.” He looked at James, eyes sad, fidgeting a little.

“I don’t want you to believe that they were cruel, or that I had a horrible childhood. It’s just that until I started school I never met anyone else and already I was quite different from the populace in my own way. We grew to get along better until we had all left home and things went downhill, but the early nervousness I felt around them never really faded.” Q frowned when he noticed James’ attempt to appear unconcerned with any of this, and offered a grimacing sort of smile.

“Honestly it is much better when we actually are together, but the anticipation makes me anxious… just, it will be fine. Alright?” James hummed and frowned, but Q looked hopeful that he wasn’t going to introduce himself to Mycroft with a gun to the face.

He tried to think of it like Skyfall. The house he had grown up in, had both fond and agonising memories of… he hadn’t been sorry to blow it up but had appreciated the advantage it had given him, Kincaid and M… It wasn’t a terribly good analogy; maybe it would be better to liken it to his relationship with M? They had their ups and downs… although he seemed to be considerably more relaxed about M than Q was with even mentioning either sibling.

But then, he hadn’t seen them together in person.

“Okay.” He kissed Q’s temple, continuing to tame the whorls of his mate’s hair. “I’ll reserve judgement for now.” Q breathed out in relief.

“Thank you. Sorry, I don’t mean to get so worked up.” James found his lips this time, hushing him gently.

“Nothing to apologise for, love. And just remember I’ll be on your side whether your brother turns out to be Bat Man or the Joker.” Q’s smile brightened considerably with unconditional adoration.

“You referenced sci-fi for me.” James preened and smiled smugly; Q’s thanks went unsaid in his honoured tone and into kisses that seared the alpha’s neck.

James wasn’t entirely surprised, given Q’s sleepless night, when he practically fell asleep at the table of the expensive French restaurant he’d inexplicably dragged his mate to.

It was an endearing attempt to make up for the cheese and pickles apparently.

It worked.

 

-00Q00-

 

Q hadn’t had a great weekend, what with the worry and lack of sleep, and Monday hadn’t been a great improvement, considering he started it by being called into branch at 1 am.

The icing on the top of the cake was that Q was getting squishy. Not fat, not showing, just generally softer around the middle. And his trousers weren’t in need of any kind of belt, and he’d really rather be in pyjamas. But at least his cardigans covered that fact slightly.

Just one more day and he’d have to give up this subterfuge and come clean.

He made sure that Dane was on R duty for Monday night and Tuesday, seeing as Q needed sleep before the big day.

Annoyingly he’d been looking forwards to his appointment with dr. Darcy before Mycroft’s call… but now that his brother was going to be showing up there, which was awkward enough, he couldn’t quite get enthusiastic about it anymore.

He was at least fairly sure he could exclude Mycroft from the room should he wish. Confidentiality won out in Medical Practice even without the added bonus of having MI6’s most dangerous agent at his side, on his side.

Q managed to find some comfort in that at least.

None the less, come Tuesday afternoon, when James came down to pick Q up from branch for their appointment, he was strongly considering hacking MI6 himself just to cause a crisis excuse.

Dane was trying to be extra helpful, having noted Q’s rising antsy-ness. Sometimes it was very useful and sometimes very annoying to be off suppressants enough that his whole branch could catch his scent emotions. Otherwise Q would have been happily maintaining his façade of complete calm and professionalism.

As it stood, Q kissed James hard when he came into branch and held his hand on the way out.

“Just think of Blasty, we’ll get to see and hear whatever that pup’s up to again, and its only one dinner with your brother afterwards.”

“I know, I know.” Q took a breath and pulled himself together a bit on the drive to the doctors. As they went in, and Q saw a familiar tinted-windowed car in the parking lot, he turned to James and kissed him on the lips quickly, gratefully, and ducked his head to look seriously up into his mate’s eyes.

“If you want to hit him, don’t worry, everybody does at least a little bit.” James looked mildly surprised, but took it under advisement and nodded. Q smiled a little and accepted James nuzzling into his neck happily before they drew apart to walk in with his right hand linked to the SIS agent’s left. Really, with agent 007 with him, Q shouldn’t have much reason to worry…

Except on whether James _would_ feel the need to punch Mycroft or not, because that would be much harder for his brother to explain away to the government.

If the thought made him snigger a bit, he managed to daintily disguise it in a cough without anyone noticing.

The waiting room for the clinic was exactly the same as Q remembered it… With the notable exception that Mycroft stood amidst the hoards of pregnancy and children with a slight air of discomfort, holding his umbrella primly and standing as if to avoid contact contamination by exuding alpha-authority.

He also had a rather flustered and upset looking Dr Darcy in front of him, who seemed to be trying to understand just what he’d done to incur the cool eyed look on the older man’s face. Q could relate only too well, and felt a surge of annoyance and protectiveness for the good-natured beta.

“Mycroft!” His accusing call reached across the clinic easily, and James switched to attention beside him. Both Darcy and the eldest Holmes looked over, one considerably more desperately than the other. James scented the air beside him subtly, hand tightening on Q’s. Of course, this would be the first time he ever encountered anyone else with his mate’s kin-smell.

“Ah, Aster,” Mycroft’s smile was genuine, fond, and cunning as a corvid. Q stood his ground as Mycroft strutted over and swung his umbrella neatly out of the way of a passing child to loop his arms around the omega in an odd kind of Mycroft-hug.

Q sighed, flexing only slightly into the controlled embrace and inhaling his brother’s scent on instinct. The smell of _kin-dominant-possessive_ clashed with the casual meant-for-public tone and words of his brother.

“So good to see you again little brother, I was just talking to your doctor here. Shall we proceed to the room for acquaintances?” Q wriggled out of the perfunctory hold and glared sullenly at the taller man.

“You’d better be nice, or I will leave.” Mycroft simply smiled in a way that gave away absolutely nothing except calm superiority and proceeded to hold out a hand to direct Q towards the exam room. A simple sharply raised eyebrow and throat clearing in poor Dr Darcy’s direction had the man stammering and scurrying towards his door. Q rolled his eyes, feeling nerves creep up in double at Mycroft’s unfathomable untouchable nature. They both knew they couldn’t act up in public, and the eldest Holmes was oh so good at winning verbal displays of subtle dominance.

Q felt twelve again, when a perfectly normal parent-teacher meeting had been turned into a one-sided verbal sparring match between Mycroft and Q’s stammering physics teacher. It had been a painful experience.

It really didn’t help that he could feel James on mission-ready mode behind him switch to shocked alarm when Q did as bid without a word of protest.

Not here, Q and Mycroft could fight in the room, but not in public where the playing field was so biased.

“Mr Black.” Mycroft prompted silkily. Of course he knew their fake surname.

“Mr Holmes.” James’ voice gave away nothing to anyone but Q, who heard the sinister smile and knowing tone with a growing dread.

Of course James wouldn’t like seeing Q so compliant, and this was only in public… God it was going to be a blood bath.

Q crossed his fingers and prayed to his motherboards that Mycroft would know a wolf in crown dog clothing when he saw one and take heed.

 

-00Q00-

 

It was mind warping. James was slightly transfixed at first with simply sniffing at the air when Mycroft’s scent washed by.

It was old, though not in age, and rich. Almost steeped in secrecy and power… and the most blindsiding aroma of Q only as an alpha, his kin scent. It took him a while to wrap his head around it as the other alpha embraced Q entirely platonically and practically without any true feeling.

The man was clearly a master at deception and manipulation. Yet what James noticed most was how similar yet different he smelled to Q, and how his mate’s entire demeanour changed from _nervous-tense_ to _annoyed-submissive-protective._

Really, that told the agent more than Q’s stuttered explanations possibly could.

Q wasn’t submissive to anyone without good cause, so clearly Mycroft must have proven himself in some way in the past. The submission, which truly shocked James to see as well as scent, left Q quite compliant… so trusted judgement? Or simply not wanting to cause a scene? In public it was so hard to tell.

Yet… the protectiveness, that was interesting. And more than a little worrying, because it suggested heavily that Q felt some sense of danger and lack of trust in his own sibling, and lack of trust in siblings had to come from an act or behavioural trait. So, James allowed his training to slip through a little as he greeted Mycroft, making sure he didn’t turn it into a power play in the middle of a prenatal clinic.

After all, James had learnt that wanton posturing and ‘alphing’ out was one sure fire way to loose Q’s respect significantly.

Maybe that had been Mycroft’s problem? He’d have to find out.

Dr Darcy led the trio to the exam room and offered them all seats with a valiant attempt at recovering himself. James couldn’t help but pity the man. He was so clearly in over his head with this gathering.

Mycroft completely disregarded him in a way that spoke volumes about the man’s impression of betas, considering their kindly doctor’s upset face. Instead the eldest Holmes turned to Q, who had sat down with his head in a hand frustratedly. James watched as Q shifted a bit uncomfortably, but allowed Mycroft to sink to bended knee and push up his tops to prod lightly at his stomach.

James only held back his growl with difficulty and because Q didn’t seemed distressed so much as awkward and embarrassed. Mycroft examined him only for a few moments, but the tension in the room was already fraught to breaking point.

“Mycroft.” Q eventually halted, voice hard and authoritative. The alpha looked up at his omega brother and raised an eyebrow, thought his expression betrayed little else. “I’m sure our doctor is busy enough without having his time wasted.”

The frown looked harsh against the previous neutrality. James was starting to feel quite uneasy… and the tingling in his knuckles suggested that yes; he did indeed want to punch Q’s oldest brother. But he’d practice patience first, and would continue to until Q needed him to do otherwise. He’d promised as much.

“I hardly think it is time wasting to examine my little brother when I haven’t seen him for over two years.” Mycroft’s silky tone was suggestive, disappointed and lethal. Q sighed harshly and crossed his arms for a moment. James watched, debating stepping in, until Q took a deep breath and stood up away from his brother. The alpha rose automatically.

“Lets not start this Mycroft.” Not quite a plea, but close enough for James to step forwards because Q wasn’t making eye contact. The other alpha caught the movement whilst the doctor looked around the room in rising panic.

“Ah, James isn’t it? A pleasure to finally make your acquaintance.” Mycroft deigned, turning to James. He stood his ground calmly, without a smile, Q looked nervously from one to the other as the beta had. He seemed about to step in, when Mycroft’s eyes hardened, sharpened.

“I do hope you’ve been good to him.” The sentence was so simple, left to hang with so many nuances. So many threats. “One does always hope for the best in these situations, and mate call is frightfully rare nowadays.”

Oh James could see why Q hadn’t grown up well with this. So many subtleties and hints in one sentence. Q, for all his brilliance, did rather hate the intricate power plays of the social elite. This must be why… and also why he could play it to a tee in board meetings.

The alpha had a choice, as always in these situations. Play the game… or…

James fixed on his very most charming grin.

“I assure you I am completely besotted, not to mention quite happy to bend your brother over any available surface and make him scream.”

Q’s strangled choke laugh was only just as entertaining and tension breaking as Darcy’s suppressed snort and hurried cough, or Mycroft’s blindsided fury at James’ cavalier tone.

With a wink at the other alpha James stalked over to Q and wrapped an arm companiably around his shoulders.

“Shall we, doctor?” The beta, still struggling to maintain his composure, hurried around the desk and beckoned Q to stand closer for measurements. The omega glanced at James in humoured amazement and shot the most curiously sorrowful gaze at Mycroft.

Said man was trying to school himself back into place. It looked rather painful. James tried not to gloat. Not very hard, but he did try a bit harder when Q elbowed him sharply.

It was that movement, more than anything, that had Mycroft’s eyes narrowing on James with something more akin to razor sharp appraisal rather than haughty dominance.

James met the gaze steadily, and could have sworn he heard the cogs turning rapid fire.

“Well, it looks like you should start to show soon, all your measurements look very good.” James attention, well, the majority of it, flashed to the doctor and Q, who was having his slightly squishy stomach measured as their doctor smiled encouragingly. James felt his heart thud a little, mouth curling into a smile. Q met his gaze, holding his breath a slightly and biting his lip in a little display of happy-nerves. James beamed till Q pinked over the cheeks daintily.

“Shall we do the ultrasound now?” Q glanced around the room but nodded eagerly. James moved to the bed with his mate and saw Mycroft stroll over with a carefully conveyed level of curiosity.

The rhythmic beating of their pup’s heart was like a strange lull over the pair of them, and James could feel unknown tension seep out of both himself and Q as they listened and watched. Strange what relief it was to have tangible proof of their baby’s life. Except…

“Hmm, maybe a touch small, but within range-“

“What?” Q’s sharp voice cut through the air and the good doctor hurried to reassure them both as James tensed.

“All pregnancies move at different rates,” he assured, hand raised pacifyingly, “nothing to worry about, honestly. We’ll keep track of you pup’s development, and if there is ever anything you need to worry about, I assure you it will not be kept from you, but you need to know that right now everything is fine.” Q nodded in a calming way, twisting his fingers together.

“We’ve been keeping track, I made a chart…” He trailed off a bit nervously, or shyly.

“A millimetre per day, yes? You’ve probably been doing very well. It gets harder to keep track of from here on, but foetal growth typically trebles from weeks ten to twelve.” Q nodded, eyes flicking, and James could fondly tell that the omega was rapidly calculating what they’d need to bring to the chart from now on.

“How’s the nausea been?”

“Severe.” James jumped in before Q could do more than open his mouth. Mycroft stiffened subtly on the other side of Q, hand griping his umbrella tighter. Was it some sort of comfort blanket? It was pristine but smelt older than Mycroft himself and had a dated appearance.

“Have you been managing to eat enough?” Dr. Darcy questioned with a sympathetic and concerned frown. Q managed a smile just about.

“It’s better now that my cravings have hit.”

“Good, well keep eating. Small meals frequently if you can manage it, and hopefully it will clear up when you pass into the second trimester, but please call me if you keep experiencing it badly. Are you managing to rest enough?” They both managed to assure their doctor that they were, even though that hadn’t been the truth till recently. Maybe the man sensed something, Mycroft certainly did, though he seemed either to choose to keep mum on it or he understood in some way.

“Well do try to stay healthy, of course we all push ourselves, but not much is worth putting yourself and your pup’s health at risk.” James couldn’t help but think ‘what about national security?’ but held his tongue, instead rubbing Q’s shoulder steadily.

“I will.” Q assured with a smile.

“Alright.” The man sighed a little. He packed away the equipment and carefully wiped away the gel from Q’s stomach, the omega pouted a bit at the loss of Blasty’s heartbeat.

“Otherwise, any medical queries or symptoms you’re unsure about? All your tests came back normal, which is excellent, but anything you’ve been worrying about? Or want to ask?”

Q sort of paused, hands tightening a little.

“Th-there’s maybe some, uh, questions I wanted to ask.” He murmured quietly, nervously. Darcy stood to understanding attention and offered up the seats again. Mycroft sharpened beside them.

“Anything wrong Aster?” He asked, quickly, probingly, Q squirmed a bit.

Q had told James his birth name back when they mated, but hated being called it and the alpha found it hard to link to the man he knew and loved as simply ‘Q’. He couldn’t get used to hearing the name, though he supposed with a ‘Mycroft’ and ‘Sherlock’ in the family, ‘Aster’ wasn’t anything too shocking… Still, he wondered if Q’s naming tastes would be as eccentric as his parents…

“If something’s been worrying you-“ Q sort of flinched inwards.

“I don’t want to discuss this with you!” Q stated, a little desperately and a lot evasively. James felt himself tense a bit in surprise, as Mycroft grew stern in response.

“Aster I am your _brother_.”

“And this is personal!” Q wrapped his arms around himself and flicked his eyes around. Mycroft huffed a bit and swelled.

“I’m here because I am concerned about your health-“

“ _Concerned_?!” Q snapped out sharply, eyes snapping to his brother and contracting with distaste and disbelief. James stepped back and retracted his hand a bit to allow Q his room as the omega swung to his feet and crowded on his brother. Mycroft held his ground smartly.

“You’re supposed to be happy for me!” Q berated with a rising voice, their doctor stepped back in shock, and even James straightened in surprise… he had assumed, just assumed, that Mycroft had said congratulations on the phone. Evidently not.

The alpha felt his distaste rise.

“This is a good thing, a huge thing, do you have any idea how nervous I’ve been about everything? And can you even behave like a normal human being long enough to say congratulations? No! Of course not! What is it you always said to Sherlock ‘caring is not an advantage’?”

“Aster you’re being unreasonable.”

“You don’t even care! I don’t know why you’re even pretending by coming here!” James was moving the instant Q’s voice lilted to the hysterical side of hurt and anger. Mycroft sighed in a disparaging way.

“Honestly, all these hysterics are quite unnecessary Star-“

“Don’t call me that! Not when you don’t fucking mean it!” The vehemence in Q’s voice stopped James short in shock, and the scent of alpha musk heightened in the room, making Darcy back away further as the two brothers faced up to each other. Both seething, one shaking.

“Now that is _enough_!” Mycroft snapped back, voice cracking through the room and sending Q flinching with a bitter expression. “You’ve hidden yourself from your family since leaving the house and didn’t even care to tell us you got mated and now look at you! Pregnant! Were you even going to tell me? Did you think we wouldn’t want to know? That it wasn’t important?” Q gestured wildly.

“You haven’t even bothered to be civil to my mate, you haven’t even tried to get to know him! You haven’t found a single nice thing to say to me, and now you’re, you’re… _demanding_ your way into my doctor’s office and acting like you have the rights to hear my private medical information-“

“Time was it that it was my business to know, to keep you safe, before you ran out on your own family-“

“ _You turned your own brother to drugs_!” Acid stung through the room with Q’s shout, and the air darkened noticeably whilst Q panted and Mycroft went pale with rage.

“You’ll believe anything he tells you wont you Aster.” Q curled into himself, shaking his head. “You believed him when he told you an omega’s position was to submit-“

“Don’t-“

“If you think that I would turn my own brother- my dear brother- onto drugs, when I was the one who fought to get him clean, then you’re a worse judge of either of our character’s than I thought.” The disappointment in Mycroft’s voice was stinging. James stepped forwards to intervene at the same time as Dr. Darcy, but he was stopped by Q’s raised hand. The doctor cleared his throat and tried to restore order.

“Gentlemen, this isn’t the time for this, nor the place. And I must remind you that such stress isn’t good for either parent or baby.”

Neither Holmes paid the slightest attention.

“If I hadn’t left, you’d never have let me leave.” Mycroft tried to protest. “Don’t lie.” Q cut in sharply, voice low and rough but quiet. “Can’t you even pretend to be happy for me?”

“Would you prefer that, brother? How can I when I’m not even allowed to see with my own eyes if _you_ are happy?”

“Because it would never be enough for you!”

“I am your _brother_!“

“Your _brother_! You tore your own brother apart, you both did! Don’t you dare say that like it should mean something after everything you two did to each other!”

“You _will not_ talk to me like that-“

“ _You’re not my alpha_!” Mycroft slammed the point of his walking stick onto the floor and Q flinched back with a yelp of ‘ _get out_!’ James was moving again before Mycroft could bellow more than:

“I am entitled to know about your health and safe-“

With a firm, ungiving hand, James gripped Mycroft by the back of the neck and halted his words into a shocked strangle.

“I think that’s enough now, don’t you?” Without waiting for a response to his calmly growled words, James hauled the other flapping alpha out of the room by the scruff of his neck and pushed him firmly into the corridor, though not harshly. James stepped out and shut pulled the door to slightly. Fixing the shocked alpha with his most deadly serious of glares.

“I suggest you calm down before you attempt to speak to your brother again, and remind yourself that love and trust are _earned_ , and no matter of blood ties, can be lost just as easily.” Mycroft looked outraged and stunned. “Remember that if you want to stand a hope of speaking to my mate again.”

With that, James turned and re-entered the room, to find Q shaking with rage and breathing harshly, biting his own arm in frustration.

In a strangled heartbeat James was beside him, relieving Dr. Darcy of his worried attempts to calm the omega down.

“Hey, hey,” James took Q’s arm and eased it from his jaw, thankful to find only deep bruises beneath the shirt and cardigan sleeves. Q shook himself free with a snarl and slammed his hand into the wall before bringing his head to rest there with a harsh thud. “Jesus, Q-“

“I hate him for what he did!” Q shouted, slamming his fist into the wall again, tears in his eyes.

“Then why the hell do you put up with him?”

“ _Because I know it’s not his fault_!” Q’s scream rebounded around the room as he met James’ eyes, breathing harshly. The alpha’s nerves were strained and fraying. He’d never heard Q so angry, shout so much, never had to hold himself back from such levels of distress. He wanted to see whatever Q did in his brother but all he could find was Stockholm’s Syndrome and a bottomless pit of piled wrongs and horrors.

Q’s eyes eventually shuttered and he looked away, fatigue sweeping him.

“Its, he’s not… I understand why it all happened, s’not anyone’s _fault_ ,” His voice caught and Q scrubbed at his face, slumping a bit. When he spoke again, it was in a flat rush of words, like a gateway being opened. “Our father had very set ideas for an alpha, beta, omega. Mycroft had to bear all of them. Sherlock was a beta, though a high one, and I’m sure part of Mycroft hated him for getting off so easy whilst the other half had learnt to judge them as ‘lesser’. Sherlock wasn’t… _the same_ anyway. He doesn’t feel things like everybody else; most people think he doesn’t feel ‘correctly’ or ‘at all’. I’m sure it was part learnt in rebellion but by the time I came around they were too deep in hating what the other wanted them to be, what they wanted to be…” Q looked up sadly.

“And then I came along. Omega, nearly killed their mother during birth but they seemed to love me anyway for their own purposes. _Alphas protect omegas_ so Mycroft became the boss of me in a way he couldn’t with rebellious Sherlock. Sherlock was young and bitter from feeling looked down on, he’d teach me and play with me but he’d rant and _rant_ about omegas being the lowest, lower than betas, crawling around after alphas… In hindsight it was just childhood anger and complaining, but I believed him because I was naïve and Mycroft was always bossing everyone around.” Q sighed heavily, emotion returning to his voice.

“Our parents were old fashioned. Which didn’t help. They were hardly there, and when they were we were always on _best_ behaviour.” Q’s words turned bitter and he shook his head. “Too many emotions, too much pressure, far too clever for our own goods.” James relaxed a bit as he felt Q calming, though it was in sorrow, not relaxation. “They ripped each other apart in every conversation they could and I was running away long before I ever did it for real… I just don’t understand why they couldn’t try to let it _go_ … Why Mycroft can’t even pretend to try.”

Of course, Q was a creature that thrived on positivity. Challenge, yes. Determination, yes. But without a shadow of a doubt James knew he would always tread the line of forgiveness rather than condemnation. Of course, it was one of Q’s social troubles that he couldn’t understand sometimes why people didn’t think or know the same as him. Not everyone was built to forgive. Or at least not in any way obvious enough for the omega.

“Oh Q.” James moved over and gripped the back of Q’s neck as he pushed their foreheads together, breathing in the tired distress of old pain, and hoped that Mycroft would manage to pull himself together and learn to show he cared, because Q wouldn’t have allowed contact if he didn’t want to keep his family.

Without meeting Sherlock, which would probably be a whole other barrel of fun, James couldn’t be sure… but the three of them sounded like a fatal combination.

“You told me that it had gotten better, as you grew up.” He reminded, gently, quietly. Q sniffed.

“It did, it has… But its been years, and this is big, and we don’t really do ‘love’ as a family. And neither of them can deal with change, and I can’t deal with fuss.” James heard the despondence in his mate’s voice and took a deep breath. He hated doing anything that might cause his mate potential discomfort or pain… but he thought that this was probably an important type of pain, just as he had felt about coming back to MI6 after his ‘death’. Unfinished business, and unfinished devotion.

“Though I would love nothing more than to throw your brother out of this hospital, Let’s give him dinner as a second chance.” Q snorted abruptly and leaned back enough to gaze wonderingly into James’ eyes.

“You scruffed Mycroft.” James smirked a little, gently, swiping his thumb over Q’s jaw and the corner of his lips. “I bloody love you.”

James grinned, and kissed Q quickly before stepping back enough to suggest Darcy could get back to work. The doctor looked unbelievably relieved that the situation was calming down, and quite like he’d be having a stiff drink later. Bond certainly knew he wouldn’t be taking his time at the restaurant with the drinks order tonight.

“I’ll be just outside, make sure he doesn’t make a break for it.” Q snorted endearingly and dissolved into stress-weak laughter as he headed over for the chairs, James allowed a pleasant moment to let Q nip at his neck affectionately before slipping out of grip and heading out of the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...So, uhm, I'M SORRY FOR LEAVING IT THERE! Dx *feels very very bad* I actually have most of the next chapter written, but I couldn't fit it all in here without things being ridiculous.  
>  I hope you don't all hate me...  
> I hope it wasn't terrible...  
> I hope a lot of things and I'm sorry this got so angstastic D:
> 
> Ahem, sorry, I've pulled myself together now *frets in corner* I've had the image of Bond scruffing and dragging Mycroft out like a disobedient pup since imagining their meeting... I tend towards angst family backstories, so I apologise if the meeting wasn't too good, or left you hanging. More should be up next weekend if nothing else...
> 
> I feel the need to rant and fret but I'll just try and keep it together, there was a surprising amount of pressure I felt writing this!
> 
> I hope (again) that you enjoyed, I shall go and be anxious _quietly_ now n_n
> 
> P.S. Sorry for ranting ';D


	11. H0: All is done and dusted; H1: One thing always leads to another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes! Only one day late this week! *victory dance*  
> This story is now so long, I have split it into 2 documents for my sanity.

Q was feeling exhausted, stressed, and flat. Possibly a little like he’d been run over as well. That was far too much emotion to take all at once. Right now, Q wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed and curl up with his mate.

Or at least something warm if James felt the need to go down a few drinks instead. Q wouldn’t blame him. He’d be downing the first hint of an alcoholic substance if he weren’t pregnant.

And god. What a horrible mash of events. Far too much for one day!

He’d had an all out shouting match with his brother in front of both his mate and his doctor. He’d made a complete fool of himself. His first family member to meet his mate and pregnancy had been horrible, and he hated Mycroft a little bit more as a result. He’d bitten his arm; a silly frustration habit he’d had from childhood, the need to bite things. His poor doctor had been scarred for life. His poor mate had been forced to see something Q really had hoped they were all grown out of. He still had to go to dinner and pretend he didn’t just want to lock himself in a coding frenzy or a bolthole. He hadn’t been able to properly enjoy the appointment at all. Poor Blasty was undersized, probably because Q hadn’t been able to keep down a meal the last few weeks until the cravings hit. He felt guilty as a result, even if it was Blasty’s fault technically…

And on top of it all, the only thing he could think of, and that made him want to cry, was how their growth chart might have been wrong and how it was going to become so much more complicated than before. He’d probably have to do some calculations, rearrange things…

God what was wrong with him? He couldn’t even focus.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Dr. Darcy, bless him. Q chuckled weakly in response.

“I was going to ask you the same question.” The man smiled, of course he did, it seemed his default setting.

“So, what was it you wanted to ask me?”

“Well…” Q shifted nervously. “It was about the whole… _birth_ …process…really.”

“Of course,” the man nodded and settled in, “closer to the time, you’ll be able to go to classes that will help you with what to expect and how to prepare, but I can talk through the general process for you now.”

“Yes, please.”

Later, he left feeling pale and shaky, but at least he’d had one piece of good news today. When he’d confessed his worries about miscarrying, and why he’d been so nervous since finding out, the beta rushed to assure him.

_“Oh I'm so very sorry, the risks of miscarriage fall to just 3 percent after eight weeks, and generally only 10 to 15 percent of pregnancies end in miscarriage as it is, and your baby-“_

_“Foetus.”_

_“…Foetus,” Darcy conceded kindly, “has normal, strong readings. The risk is very minimal from this point on, try not to worry about it if you can, its much more beneficial for you to rest and focus on worrying about yourself, if you need to worry about something.”_

Well, that was something of a relief, at least. Or it would be once he started accepting and believing it anyway.

Outside in the corridor, after bidding goodbye to the doctor, Q came face to face with a guard-mode James and a sullen looking Mycroft. He sighed, and tried to push back and down all his disappointment, though it was a bitter mouthful to swallow.

“Come on, the reservation is for seven.” Mycroft had booked it, of course. The alpha stood straighter and nodded.

“Yes, quite right.” Because it wouldn’t do to lose the pretence of face in public. Q sighed again, heavily, rubbing his eyes and suddenly feeling very tired of everything. James touched his arm gently, and Q didn’t know if he wanted to shrug him off or lean into the contact. It was all so very, very tiring.

“Alright, I’m coming.” He replied instead, voice weak and dull even to his own ears, and dragged his feet slightly towards the exit. With any luck, he’d simply fall asleep during dinner and be carried home. That would cut down on the time remaining with his brother at least.

And how bizarre was it that James was taking the moral high-ground of allowing the other alpha another chance when Q assumed guns would be drawn…

Did wonders never cease?

 

-00Q00-

 

James had to admit, his estimation of Mycroft rose exponentially when he saw the man’s taste in restaurant. He also was being bizarrely pleasant all of a sudden.

It was professional pride that allowed James to read people so well, and he was sure he should be able to find some kind of deception there, but he could spot none. Whether that was because is mate’s brother was genuinely being… genuine, or if he was simply a whole new level of deceitful, James had no idea. Which was faintly unnerving.

The mood of the evening had changed, surprisingly, after they had ordered their food. Although Bond thought that Q was probably beyond noticing such things, he seemed to have relaxed a bit on instinct.

“Do you think they’d let me take away some of the cheeses?” Q asked as he dug into his starter, a cheesy salad with bacon in it.

“I think we have enough cheese in the house, love.” Q shook his head stubbornly; mouth full as he disagreed.

“Wrong, you can never have enough cheese.” James rolled his eyes, and put some Parma ham from his own plate onto Q’s where it was met with a raised eyebrow.

“You need more meat.”

“I’m having a steak for main, do you want me to explode?”

“You’re having a blue cheese burger.”

“Don’t look down on my food choices.”

“Calling it ‘food’ would be giving it titles beyond its station.”

“Oh shut up, Mr. caviar is my only friend.” James snorted at the memory of when Q had had to fish him out of a restaurant he had gotten embarrassingly drunk in.

Mycroft had watched them through the exchange closely, that strange expression back on his face. He seemed…curious.

“So, James. I take it you are from Scotland originally.” James nodded. “And then served in the navy prior to your current employment?”

Apparently Mycroft could be pleasant whilst maintaining his disposition as a pretentious know-it-all.

“And you, in government?” The man scoffed a little lightly with a disregarding smile.

“Oh, well hardly.” Q swallowed and piped up.

“Don’t let him fool you. He’s got half the country eating out of his hand and the other chasing around his feet for scraps, he’s in so deep he’s practically bathed in the royal family’s blood.” James sat a bit straighter, a small smile playing around his lips.

“Then you must be more familiar with my employer than I am.” Mycroft frowned.

“Within reason, national security is not an aspect of government that I take lightly.” Interesting, that was something of a relief to hear, not to mention a fairly genial throw out of approval for his occupation. Not something he thought most families would approve of.

“You aren’t worried about what my job could do to your brother?” Q seemed surprised by the jump in conversation, Mycroft mildly despairing.

“Mr. Bond, my brother is England’s quartermaster… I rather think he is considerably more likely to get you into trouble.” There was silence for a while whilst Q looked between the two eating alphas in confusion.

James could deal with people like Mycroft. He had to meet worse characters, and something of a tentative truce seemed to have been met.

Their starters were cleared and mains arrived along with a fresh variety of wine. Q drank his water as if trying to convince himself that he was enjoying it.

“And where did you three grow up, I’m assuming the countryside, though probably somewhere close to civilization. Private school of course, judging by your accents.” Q snorted at the same time Mycroft blanched. James looked around worriedly for a moment. “What?”

“Did you really have to mate with someone like your brother?” Q held up his hands in defense.

“James’ _job_ is to observe people, make assessments. He doesn’t go about it like Sherlock does.”

“That remains to be seen.” Mycroft commented dryly, but returned his gaze to James in any case. “Correct on all accounts, although I now migrate between the family home and my London residence…” Mycroft turned his attention to eating his rather large meal with slightly more violence than was necessary, and a disparaging and disapproving expression. “Sherlock lives in a _flat share_.”

“We live in an apartment.” Q pointed out coolly. Mycroft looked between them both.

“Well not for long surely? You’ll be moving to a larger house of course…” The sentence hung threateningly in the air, and for the first time James considered that actually they really had nowhere to keep a child, they had no spare room, and couldn’t very well keep a pup in the hall.

“We haven’t discussed anything yet.” He smoothed over calmly. Q was looking rather sick all of a sudden.

“I like our apartment…” He mused, a bit regretfully. James brushed a strand of hair from his mate’s face till he had his attention.

“We’ll sort it out.” Mycroft had that curious expression once more.

“Well, if you require any assistance, I am happy to offer my expertise.”

James nodded in polite thanks, and it was Q’s turn to look at his brother curiously. However, he knew that any home they picked would have to be one they found for themselves, the pair of them together were far too proud and stubborn for any less.

Dinner proceeded without mishap, and though the tension hadn’t abandoned the air, it was much dissipated. By the time James stood out in the foyer waiting for Q to get back from where he’d sweet-talked his way into the kitchen, he felt that he had a firmer ground to stand on with the eldest Holmes, though he couldn’t forgive the man’s treatment of Q in the clinic.

The older alpha tapped his umbrella contemplatively on the floor before turning to James.  
“You rather take me by surprise.” James cocked an eyebrow and stood a little straighter, meeting the appraising squint of the other alpha’s eyes. “…And I find myself tentatively hopeful.”

He let the words sink in for a moment, but Mycroft was far too good at his game for James to read all the nuances in his tone. All the agent knew was that if this man suggested the alpha use a firm hand on Q, James would punch him in the face.

“Why's that then?” He queried back genially; for clearly Mycroft wanted to talk… obviously he liked to hear his own voice. The man sighed.

“Mr. Bond.” He turned to face the blonde alpha, eyebrows raised in a manner to convey his meaning. “My brother, to this day, has never shown any sort of authority or equality to anyone other than my brother and I whilst within his family's presence.”

James was stunned silent enough that he stiffened. It was impossible to believe that of the omega who had stood up to him in the gallery, beat back the double ohs and held aloft an entire department with a straight back and a core of steel. The man who had so recently threatened 008 into being fired and sequestered back into the military… He couldn’t compute Q bending for anyone other than M, or rolling over for anyone… He’d never seen Q submit so easily to anyone before today, when he did so for Mycroft.

“He has submitted to every single person he's ever been around regardless of age, gender, sex, and physical or mental ability when in the same house as me or Sherlock since the day he was born.” He didn’t like the sound of that one bit, remembered what Q said of his family expecting ‘tradition’.

James' threatening growl was cut sharply short with an annoyed eye-roll.

“You misunderstand me. This change is a _good thing_ , Bond, as far as I am concerned. God knows he struggled enough with coming to terms with the switch between life outside and within the house, so much so that he cut his behaviour in half and was driven to hiding his entire life from us for years.” Mycroft paused for a calming breath. “It may be because he's grown up, but I can't help but find myself thankful to anyone who is able to nurture him merging his lives back together.” There was a mildly irritated kind of sigh as Mycroft fussed with his umbrella. “Even though it means I'll have to trust you as being as good a mate as he clearly seems to think you are.” James stood straighter still, meeting the man’s eyes without hesitation or threat.

“I am, and will be, as long as I live and longer.”

A vaguely impressed eyebrow was raised, though those firm eyes said that they would hold James to that promise or see him dead.

For once, James didn’t doubt that this was a man who could make his life extremely difficult should he choose… And that it was no mean feat that he chose to not.

“Good. In that case, I look forwards to seeing you again, James.”

“Mycroft.” They shook hands, James’ head spinning a bit with influx of information and emotion; this had been a day as fraught with tension as some of his top-secret missions. And he had to wonder again, just what had these brothers been like growing up, and what had driven them all down such convoluted paths. James himself had no remaining family, though of course there was Kincaid, if he counted as anything quite that deep, and he was a bit unsure about calling these strange seeming brothers his new family.

Q came back around the corner, looking tired and ready to go home, laden with cheese and the weight of fractured relationships. And he realized that Q had never asked him to welcome the two errant brothers with open arms, or even accept them for anything other than fact and allow them the chance to prove or fail themselves. Maybe he wasn’t one of this family; who went further back than the murkiest of memories, but Q was his family. And he was loathe of the idea of seeing his mate’s broken and dead expression again as he had in the clinic.

He could try. Mycroft had at least managed to improve himself, and there was only one brother left to go now. This meant more to Q than he thought even the omega himself knew.

“Ready to go?” He asked with a smile, and unloaded some of the cheese from his mate’s arms. Q smiled up at him a bit weakly. The three of them left together, the MI6 employees depositing their spoils in the car and stood for a moment before Q touched James’ arm.

“Uhm, give me a moment?” His green eyes glanced back to his waiting brother, and James nodded.

 

-00Q00-

Q turned to his oldest brother and walked over. Truly, Mycroft hadn’t been so bad during dinner; there was a certain honesty to his conversation that Q rarely heard in public. Things at the doctors had been pretty poisonous, but Q was sensing a modicum of truce. He hoped.

Mycroft turned to him with a ruefully melancholic expression, rearranging his umbrella and coat. Q sighed and stepped up close, head a little ducked, eyes somber.

“Aren’t you tired of this all My?” There was a sad, pained sort of smile and Q, with some surprise, let Mycroft pull him close into a hug, umbrella digging into his back slightly.

“Endlessly.” They were silent for a moment, as Q let the weight of those words sink in. After a pause he turned his head to nuzzle their cheeks together, nudging the alpha’s head and hearing a little gasp of surprise and recognition. The move was very familial. Mycroft’s arms closed around him as he accepted the contact Q was willing to offer gratefully.

“I can…try harder, Star. Just let me keep close a little, please.” One hand slipped unsurely back around till it slid up under his top to his belly, resting there gently. “We can improve on past mistakes… I hope, anyway.” The little breath of uneasy laughter made Q loosen a little.

“Me too.” Q confirmed, and swallowed before pressing his hand against Mycroft’s on his stomach. “And I do want you to be part of this, both of you. “We can…try.” Mycroft huffed a little breath.

“That’s all I ask.” He responded candidly, and withdrew enough to pat Q’s stomach, which was a little weird, and smile _genuinely_ … which was weirder still. “Congratulations, brother.” With that Mycroft pushed off and headed towards his car, waving his umbrella in farewell.

“I shall be sending you more suitable food than what you usually consume, got to keep your strength up now Aster.”

“…Know it all.” Q muttered mutinously under his breath, but not terribly angry.

He turned back to James with a shake of his head, and pressed a solid kiss onto him before nuzzling up under the man’s chin and sighing in his scent.

“Can we go home now?” James wrapped arms around him, and lent back against the car, pulling Q with him with a kiss. The omega melted into him, body relaxing from the day and allowing the damp warmth of the balmy evening to surround him and erase the stress from his senses.

All in all, it could have gone a lot worse. And- Q broke off from James with an unattractive fit of laughter.

“Ahhh, you scruffed Mycroft.” Q breathed out, blissfully, gripping James’ waist as the alpha combed fingers through his hair with a growing smirk.

“I can do it again, if it impressed you that much.” James teased, and Q shook his head with a chuckle.

“No, that was perfect… just perfect.” He rolled his body flush against James’ muscled form. “Now take me home, alpha.” Q smirked, and nipped at James’ ear hard enough to tingle and elicit a groan, the agent’s hands running down his spine tightly.

“My pleasure, gorgeous.”

 

-00Q00-

 

Two days later, an arrival from Mycroft would hail their door with exquisite and exotic spicy food that managed to satisfy both of them completely.

“You know, he does have his merits, your brother.”

Q had to agree, unfortunately.

Ten minutes after that, a dramatic sound effect came from his phone signaling a text. Q pulled it over, frowning suspiciously.

_-Mycroft dearest tells me you have big news. Respond immediately. He is being insufferably smug. I know where you live-_

Q’s lips twitched in a weak, unnerved smile that probably looked rather sick, James looked over with a frown of his own.

“Ready for act two?” The slight slumping and paling of James’ form did nothing to inspire Q’s own confidence.

“Good grief. Already?” Q offered a strangled smile, James groaned, but managed to huff some incredulous laughter. “Alright, bring it on.” He growled out with a vicious smile at the challenge. Q felt weak at the very thought.

“No, not till next week. At least I haven’t met Sherlock’s ‘partner’ yet either. He can’t quite pull the same rank as Mycroft. Still, two doses in the same week are just too much for my sanity.” James nodded, a little relieved looking with a deep breath out. After a moment, it caught, and the alpha was up and out of his seat in an instant, crowding in on his slightly alarmed mate.

“James what-“

“Q, you’re showing.”

“ _What_!” Q scrambled his own top up, throwing the plate he’d been holding down hurriedly with a warning clang. Sure enough, James’ hand was cupped under a very slight, very gentle bump on the omega’s belly.

“…Holy cow.” Q murmured, fingers reverently and cautiously tracing the rise of the bump. “How could I not notice?” James just grinned, all teeth and glee and twinkling blues as he encased the small bump in his large hands and rose to meet Q’s still bewildered lips.

“We’ve done it, Q.” Q smiled a bit silly and gripped James’ hair as he looked away, feeling heat behind his eyes. His free hand slipped to cover the alpha’s as shocked little laughs caught his breath. James just pulled him close and held him silently, their hands dancing over the first evidence of their pup.

 

-00Q00-

 

Q couldn’t stop touching his bump. But that was okay because neither could James, who had actually taken to measuring Q with his hands each morning, the sweetest smile on is face.

The omega would wake up to find one hand in his hair, stroking, and the other curved gently over his stomach, thumb rubbing rhythmically.

It was entirely overwhelming in the best way.

Not so pleasant, was his self-imposed meeting today with his branch… Q couldn’t put it off any longer; he had to give MI6 as much warning as possible.

If it all came to naught, then no harm no foul. But Q Branch would need to be prepared. After all, it wouldn’t just be for the last month or so of his pregnancy, and Q planned to postpone his leave as long as possible, but at least four weeks after that…

Four weeks to adjust to life with a newborn baby entirely dependent on him. Good God what was he getting himself into? What was he thinking!

Thoughts like that usually sent Q to the bathroom to vomit. Right now he wasn’t sure whether it was Blasty or his nervous system causing more of the nausea. James was evidently worried that his mate couldn’t seem to calm down and relax into this, but the pressure was enormous and Q couldn’t help but feel like a nervous wreck.

He couldn’t even keep plants alive for Christ’s sake!

“Q, are you sure you want to do this today, you could wait another week.” James suggested the morning before the big day. Q had woken in the night from another nightmare where their pup tried to eat knives because Q was coding and James had put him into interrogation for child neglect.

It wasn’t fair! Why wasn’t James worried? Although, thank God he wasn’t, really, Q was going psychotic enough about the whole affair for the two of them.

“No, they’ll need to prepare to follow R’s leadership and step up their game for however long the leave is. I’m not sure how soon I’ll be back after antenatal leave.” James’ face contorted a little as he bit his tongue. Q knew exactly what he was thinking, because this was one matter they hadn’t discussed yet for the dual knowledge of how their opinions would differ wildly.

James would want Q to start leave as early as he became uncomfortable at work, Q wanted to stick it out till the bitter end, and even then probably just cut down hours. If he could stand he could work, would need to work. He planned to be on call even after that.

Of course, they hadn’t talked about it, nor to M, who would no doubt have an opinion of his own.

And then there was the antenatal leave, James, again, probably wanted to set a date months away from the birth for Q’s return.

Q was terrified about the whole affair. Terrified of children, terrified of being bored, terrified of not working, terrified of being replaced…

For some reason he found it immensely hard to link their Blasty; adorably dinky and womb-contained, approximately 4.7 cm and roughly the size of the distress signal radio he’d first given James (and even that seemed pretty terrifyingly huge at the rate they were now updating the growth chart), with the idea of holding and being responsible for a living, breathing, helpless little baby.

Really, conception and pregnancy, essentially acting as incubation, was a fairly passive kind of responsibility to another life form comparatively. Q was quite happy with this level of responsibility most days. He was just fine with ‘body sharing’: it was well within the realm of his capabilities… just like having a lodger, really. True, he could happily do without the vomiting, frequent urination, occasional aches and fatigue, but he could deal with it. If Blasty wanted a piece of each of Q’s meals and a little warmth here, a bit of extra cushioning there, well, so far that was hardly too demanding, Q could just eat more and take it easy when he needed…

However. Oh _so_ many however’s. Sharing food and body space with something he and James had produced and grown, grown immeasurably fond and hopeful for, was a whole different set of cables to actually holding and taking care of something else, someone else.

Maybe the word terrified didn’t quite cover it. Either way, Q had to resist the urge to get on his knees every night and beg James never to leave him alone with their child and to please do all the lifting and caring because wasn’t giving birth and growing the damn thing that would take away all their freedom and load them with responsibilities more than a fair share of the work load?

…He could hope, at least… Hope that James wouldn’t loose his head somewhere down the line, because Q wasn’t quite sure what would happen if he did.

One thing Q knew for sure; alone, he would fail. Because he had not the first clue of how to raise a child, and was pretty sure he was biologically incapable of such a feat.

Really, he probably did need to calm down. That was months away, and everything could change dramatically, maybe he would even look forwards to having a pup to care for? And besides, worrying wasn’t good for his body, baby, or digestive system.

Maybe if he could just fathom the nightmare-baby instead as their Blasty, sweet, centimeters-long Blasty, then he would cope a bit better? After all, he enjoyed charting growth, and running his fingers over the bump in his previously flat stomach, and positively loved James doing the same…

Thank God for James, really, or Q would have been a mess. If only the alpha could come to his announcement meeting with him this morning, than maybe the omega wouldn’t feel quite so sick.

But, nervous wreck or not, he had his pride. Q took deep, calming breaths and prepared himself to walk in with his head held high as James drove them to work.

 

-00Q00-

 

“The bloody cheeky bastards!” James looked up as Q burst into his office at lunchtime, he was clearly fuming. He tried not to smile, but he had his suspicions as to his lover’s bad mood.

“They already knew you were pregnant didn’t they.” He deadpanned, struggling not to laugh as Q gesticulated wildly with vague flapping motions.

“Yes! And they let me go on for ten minutes before the first of them broke out snickering! Bloody ingrates.” Q stomped over and fell into a chair. “No respect, no idea that I’ve been worrying about telling them for weeks.” The ranting went on for a bit as Q gestured crossly. “And now there they all are, pleased as punch. I shouldn’t have bothered.” James smiled a bit and lent back.

“Isn’t it better this way, love?” Q huffed.

“Just a bit anticlimactic.” He rubbed his stomach absently. “What if Blasty had been excited about meeting them? They could have at least pretended.” The alpha watched a small sneaky smile grow on his mate’s face over the petulant annoyance. “Still, none of them had really thought about me being on leave, that knocked some of the wind out of their silly smug little sails.” James laughed and got up to go crouch in front of Q, resting his chin on the omega’s knees.

“You worry too much, with the amount you’ve been vomiting I’d be concerned if they hadn’t noticed, or at least attempted to get you to medical.” Q had to fractionally nod and shrug at that in acquiescence. James reached out to run his fingers over the bump of Q’s stomach, petting for a moment before pushing his top up to stroke beneath.

“You need new clothes.” Q let his head fall back with a groan, hand coming to scratch through the alpha’s hair lightly.

“Insult to injury.” James shifted up enough to kiss his belly before lifting Q upright under the arms till his feet left the floor. With a little ruffled noise of surprise the omega grabbed hold of his shoulders, wrapping his legs around the agent’s waist for stability.

“I think I’d better return you to your all-knowing minions. But lunch first.” Q kissed his head briefly before squirming.

“Put me down.” James did, and Q bit his throat lightly in reprimand that was more loving than chastising. James chuckled and took his mate’s hand to pull him out.

“Speaking of minions, how are your recruits shaping up?” James paused thoughtfully; he had several ideas for the foolhardy young adults under his tutelage.

“Hmm, what do you think about gun training? Ammunitions?” Q shrugged, linking their arms together.

“I don’t know, by the time any of them come to me they’re certified agents. I rarely handle anyone who isn’t a double oh.” James considered this; he had hoped for Q’s assistance in instructing the agents on some of the subtler plays in weaponry… some of the things that they would have to adapt to. But of course, Q’s inventions were rarely circulated agent-wide even if they were breakthroughs. After all, it wouldn’t do to have untrained individuals loosing such high tech and expensive weaponry where it could be found. At least the double ohs disposed of their equipment with efficiency… no matter how much Q despaired at it.

Maybe when they were cut down in numbers and had managed their first high tension missions, but he wouldn’t waste Q’s time on untrained agents any more than he would his mate’s security.

-00Q00-

Tuesday brought a new milestone for Blasty; he had bypassed 5 cm and was now making a bid for six. Q had researched growth rates and calculated that during weeks 10-12 of pregnancy their pup would grow roughly 3 mm per day. James had filled in the line tonight. Q had just been glad he hadn’t had to re-plot the whole spread sheet, he was rather fond of the mish-mash of different coloured pen lines that indicated the different days and markers of Blasty’s growth. The alpha had proceeded to kiss and ravage Q into a fluster on the kitchen counter in delight and pride.

“Blasty’s growing faster than I thought.” James commented later, as they both panted and drank their way through the ridiculously hot curry that Mycroft had sent them that night with his regards. The eldest Holmes enjoyed supplying these packages every third day or so, and accompanied the dinners with fancy breakfast and snack items, drinks.

It was a relief not to have to think about what new cheese dish to create all the time, and had managed to get Q hooked on apple juice and spice… Enough so that Q had to wipe tears and sweat away from his face before answering James.

“Me too.” He admitted. James frowned at him; eyes drifting to his stomach and back. At home, Q was down to wearing either just boxers or pajamas on his lower half, he’d have to go shopping this week. His work clothes were just plain uncomfortable.

“Doesn’t it hurt at all?” He asked, Q shrugged easily.

“Bit of an ache some days,” He turned with a smile. “Nothing really.”

“Good.” James opened his mouth to continue only to be interrupted by the shrill ringing of a phone, James Bond’s 007, MI6 phone. Q looked on in apprehension and mounting dread, already getting the urge to smash the device as the knowledge that this couldn’t be good battered around his thumping heart. As James answered, eyes hard and focused, they both listened urgently. Q could just make out the words after James’ formal greeting.

_“Double oh Seven, report to Headquarters now. Moneypenny has been targeted in Singapore, immediate backup and retrieval required.”_

“Understood.” Q tried not to feel as if the world had dropped from under his feet as anxiety became a wormhole in his mind. As if a friend in danger wasn’t enough…

James was going out into the field.

Their eyes met, icy blue to changing green, and Q felt everything tip out of place at the determination in his mate’s eyes.

“We’d better be off then, you’ll need equipment.” Q wished he could have thought of something better to say.

“Lets get going.” At least James didn’t have anything good either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Have to run to work, so I'll try not to ramble!)  
> Hope you enjoyed. Hope that you approve of the culmination of _this_ particular Holmes meeting. Hope you're still all having as much fun with Blasty as I am.  
>  You are all wonderful and I hugely appreciate your comments and Kudos n_n
> 
> P.S. Sorry for the cliff-hanger(ish) ending, enjoy the tension! ;D
> 
> Love you all.


	12. H0: Absence makes the heart grow fonder; H1: Absence makes the heart learn tachycardia.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another week, another longer chapter! *smacks face*  
> I feel very genuinely lucky to have had such great support and enthusiasm for this story, its quite hard to describe the happiness your comments give me, but be assured they do not go un-danced for ;3
> 
> In other news, my version of Blasty's growth chart (which I use to keep track of the story timeline and events and the little blighter's growth- it is actually quite strange to see!) is about to outgrow the original note-book page I had it on. On to the A2 paper!  
> I might actually put a photo of it up on here whenever this monster is finished...
> 
> Also incidentally, for anyone wondering, (or not!) the titles for this are based on the scientific way of testing a theory or hypothesis. The null hypothesis (H0) and your expected hypothesis (H1) are two opposing theories you are testing. Basically proving or disproving that something (H1) will happen or that there will be no effect (H0)...  
> Wow, sorry, I really just can't help myself... you can see how the chapters get so long huh? ;D

The heat was unreal compared to England, even if it was summer back at home. Bond stalked the streets of the Riviere Cocos on the isle of Rodrigues and lapped up the heat. Eve had fled to the island off the coast of Mauritius when her targeting became apparent, James just had to get to the position for their rendezvous, and get them both back to England.

He was on high alert, dressed casually as a backpacker, and wary of every face…

At the same time he couldn’t help but feel the thrill of active service, the joy of seeing a whole new culture, the buildings, the scenery, the people. The alpha was enjoying it so much that he was feeling guilty about how much he _wasn’t_ missing home.

He wouldn’t say he wasn’t missing Q. It would be a lie, even though he was pretty sure he should be missing him more… His guilt was evident; either Rodrigues had a surreal amount of pregnant omegas and betas, or he was keyed onto them ridiculously keenly.

And so he was thinking about Q a lot, and didn’t know whether he was just having such a good time that he was temporarily blissful and would later crash with need for his mate… or if his hyper awareness was the only conscious sign of his longing whilst in mission-mode.

Sundown struck glorious and with a heralding tempest as James tapped the Morse code for 007 out on the door of Eve’s hideaway.

Eve’s laquored skin and cheekily sultry expression lured him inside with welcome.

“Mr. Bond, fancy meeting you here.” He smiled back conspiratorially.

“Well if you will keep getting into trouble like a calling card… I thought you got a desk job?” Eve smirked back and pulled the door aside fluidly.

“And miss out on all the fun of turning holidays into escape training?” Bond grinned and stalked inside, glad to see that the lioness of an alpha was okay.

Sitting down at the table for a drink, Eve explained her situation.

“Well, apparently some millionaires also frequent Istanbul, and remembered my face from some pictures during that list retrieval mission.” The overly casual words and tone showed just how badly that mission affected Moneypenny even two years or so down the line.

“Apparently they didn’t take too kindly to the bad reputation it lent to their train company.”

“…Ah. Yes that was rather eccentric, not that I can remember all the details.”

“Well _they_ can. And they’re heavily armed, and out for my blood. Nearly shot down the whole hotel just to get to me before I escaped, and I’ve no doubt they’re just steps away from finding me again.” Bond frowned.

There was little more dangerous than someone reckless enough to focus and exact their revenge on one person so keenly that they disregarded secrecy.

“Seems a strategy might be in order.” Eve smirked with teeth, elegant fingers running around her glass in a display of subconscious nerves. She really had been ruined for fieldwork.

“I’m all ears.”

 

-00Q00-

 

James had been away for two days, and it had only taken one day for Q to grow bored of his temporary ‘freedom’. He _missed_ James, missed him like a limb. It was even worse than before he was pregnant. Which was ridiculous and annoying all at once, because wasn’t that a pleasant little stereotype?

Still, regardless of his thoughts on the matter, it was tough. The little everyday things that he had enjoyed with James beside him became loathsome or miserable or just downright upsetting.

All the cheese he was consuming was utterly tiresome and he ate the stuff with little to no joy in copious amounts and imagined himself swelling like a beached whale. His clothes were becoming impossible, and his only saving grace was that his long cardigans covered up the fact that he could no longer do up the buttons on his trousers thanks to his frustratingly expanding bump. Blasty was growing beautifully; he was nearly 6 centimeters! But without James filling in the chart had become solemn and upsetting without anyone to share it with. He supposed it would look nice when James came back, if they could see it over Q’s stomach.

However, his worry over his mate and friend could well be the source of quite a bit of his moodiness. By now James should have made contact with Moneypenny and be on their way back to safety. Their mission was fairly remote for now, and there wasn’t much communication expected, but he hated to leave work in case they needed to call. Q would, after all, be manning the support on such a mission.

M was worried, not that he was letting many people see him to find out, and Tanner was similarly distracted and concerned.

Hence why the man was currently sitting in Q branch after hours when neither of them should rightly be there. Q’s night shift kept looking over at him, as if wondering of what to say or do, whether they should make him leave.

Apparently Q’s tense body language and pheromones were prominent enough to dissuade any and all attempts to get him to leave at a reasonable hour. It didn’t hurt that Tanner was in there with him. Misery loves company, and no one wanted to interrupt their morbid pity party.

Tanner took a drink from his hip flask, must be very worried then. Maybe he was fonder of Eve than Q had originally thought. Q glanced at him as he gestured to the omega slightly.

“So, how’s your pregnancy going?” Wonderfully blunt Tanner. At least with Q, after their debacle the night of aiding M and James’ escape to Scotland, they’d become quite close. He appreciated the droll melancholy, and sighed dramatically in kind.

“I ache, feel tired, need to consume copious amounts of cheese to sustain my growing life form and, oh yes, I can’t fit in to my trousers any more. I feel the very peak of joy.” Tanner snorted a little and took another drink.

“You look good enough, Q, pregnancy does that to omegas, it’s like heat.”

“…I don’t know if that was chauvinistic or not.” Tanner frowned at the ceiling for a moment before shrugging with a sardonic smile.

“Neither do I.” Q took a moment to evaluate the miserable pair they made right now. Really neither of them was in a fit state to be overstaying hours. He turned to Tanner with a light question.

“Don’t suppose you want to come help me find expandable clothes instead of moping around in my office? I can promise company, if not a good taste in activities.” Tanner scrunched up his face, paused, and went a bit slack in surprise as he clearly couldn’t think of a single better way to spend the evening.

“Alright then.” Q smiled and stood to gather his stuff as Tanner did the same.

As it turned out, pregnancy clothes shopping was horrific.

“What sort of sizing even is this?” Q demanded of Tanner in a blind sort of horrified outrage as he held up a pair of formal-ish trousers that stopped pretending to be trousers at the crotch and instead of buttons and zipper transformed into a stretchy elastic nightmare.

Tanner looked vaguely traumatized, but was evidently attempting to be brave and stoic for Q.

“…I don’t know what to tell you.” He went for the hipflask again.

“I mean, I get that in a few months I’ll be the size of a small orca, but did they really have to name this the _Jumbo Stretch_?” Tanner spat out liquor.

Ten minutes and red faces later they were embedded in the covering and stretchy top section. Q was feeling vaguely itchy with the need to run and Tanner was at least tipsy. A sudden snickering to his left had the quartermaster turning to M’s aide.

“…What?” He drew out, suspiciously. Tanner fought a hanger free of the wire.

“I think I’ve found what you should wear to the office Christmas party…” Tanner’s voice was straining and high with laughter as he turned around. Q burst out into a fit of smothered hysterics, going weak at the knees and bending double with a hand clamped to his mouth.

He tried to imagine the viscerally pained look on James, M, and everyone else’s awkward faces if he turned up in Jumbo Stretches and a tacky tuxedo t-shirt that had a smaller tuxedo doubled on the belly and the words ‘my pup is my plus one’ emblazoned on it in purple bold print.

From there on, it was anarchy. They arrived at the pay point ten minutes later with barely restrained fits of laughter that seemed to anger the employees, who also seemed to think the alcoholic low alpha and his clearly silly omega weren’t deserving of their clothes.

Regardless, Q now had clothes enough to get him through work and home with comfort if not self-respect.

They grabbed take away from a nearby Chinese and went their separate ways, worry glazed over for a couple of hours if not dissipated. Q resolved to try and spend more time with Tanner; he clearly had the right impressions of pregnant life and its humorous horrors.

That night Q bit the bullet and put on his new pregnancy pyjamas, throwing one of James’ Navy t-shirts on top for the scent.

It was an obscenely comfy combo.

 

-00Q00-

 

Eve and James had gotten to mainland Mauritius without too much of a hiccup. Using mostly local transportation and the cover of tourism they hid their progress. Getting across to Madagascar from there involved some petty bribery and commandeering a bi-plane.

Unfortunately, one could not hide in Madagascar easily if one was a foreigner. White people attracted far too much attention, and there was little tourism to cover them. Fortunately, there was also less electronic supervision of the nation; little CCTV, large swathes of dry land and paddy fields cut through with only straight roads.

Eve commandeered a vehicle, her money combing over the evidence of the blatant language barrier, and James hopped in under cover, taking over the driving. The beat up truck would survive the roads or fall apart trying. Hopefully the former.

“If the cops pull us over-“

“We’ll handle it.” James assured with finality, resisting the urge to honk the wheezy horn at the passing line of zebu blocking the road.

Their drive was lengthy and filled with intermittent conversation. Eve was hardly herself, and seemed to long for news of home with the desperation of a prison inmate. It made James a little sad, to be truly honest, remembering the vitality she had exuded in their first few meetings and trips… But then, it wasn’t for no reason that an agent switched for a desk job.

James carefully didn’t reveal anything about any ongoing operations, the bomb scare in the embassy with 008, the ensuing threat level increase, his training of the new recruits, or Q and his pregnancy… In other words, he told her nothing.

There was no way he could expel any secret information to Eve when she was in such an unpredictable state and they were being sought out by revenge-addled maniacs. He couldn’t promise that she would be able to keep state secrets under torture right now.

They managed small talk and their usual flirtations, but every now and then Moneypenny would pause to stare through the windows and subconsciously bite her fingernails.

It was more than a little sobering to see, and reminded him of the threats that staying in the game too long had.

Abruptly a fierce longing for Q hit James in the gut hard enough that his hands tightened on the steering wheel. Q, despite everything, loved his job as much as James loved his. And there was consistency in that. With his mate in his ear, James felt faintly invincible for the amount of trust he had in the omega manning his missions back home. The opposite was true here. At the moment, love her thought he did, James was worried about trusting Eve with a lock pick, let alone with a gun or his life.

It was unfortunate, Eve had chosen her route when she got the shakes, and now she’d been pulled back into the game when no longer fit for it. Were any of them truly going to be free from this life by the end of it? What were the repercussions of their lifestyles going to be a few years down the line? It was a harrowing thought, that James wouldn’t necessarily be able to protect his mate from anything the universe threw their way; from revenge plots to out of control busses, the world was too unpredictable, and soon they’d have a child stumbling blindly around in it as well.

The silent thoughts mulled unpleasantly as Eve slept next to him and they drove through the setting sun towards the airport to get back to mainland Africa.

 

-00Q00-

 

Blasty was working on growing hair follicles whilst Q attempted desperately to control his own. It wasn’t working out quite as well as he had hoped. He had woken up from a fitful sleep the night before and found himself buried in half of James’ clothes closet. Q had the slightly embarrassing habit of sleep-nesting when he didn’t give in to the desire frequently enough. He should have assumed it would only get worse now that he was pregnant, and now his poor tangled hair was paying the price.

According to his research, little Blasty also had a head the size of his body, and was also developing reproductive organs. The thought was a little staggering, that right now, this was the week where their pup’s sex and gender were put into action, although of course already predisposed by genetics.

Girl or boy, alpha, beta or omega, all decided and unknown and lurking inside his belly. Q stroked the bump absently as he looked down at it from his hair-taming attempt in the mirror.

“What are you, I wonder?”

A bomb noise from his phone indicated a text from Mycroft, and Q went to investigate.

_-Afternoon tea tomorrow? I can promise cheesecake. Pick you up after work. Wear something respectable.-_

Q pondered. James wouldn’t be back for a few days yet, and to be honest he was lonely, and Mycroft was trying… The omega swiftly hashed out an affirmative with the time he clocked off and tried not to think about the matter any more. Tea would be quick; it might be the perfect little meeting to keep up their mildly improving relationship for a short and sweet time…

Plus, it involved cheesecake.

Mycroft knew his weaknesses.

 

-00Q00-

 

Everything had been going fine. Moneypenny had calmed somewhat in the smoothness of their escape thus far; they had ditched the car, and reached the Antananarivo airport without hiccups.

However, here they reached issue.

In a matter of moments before passing security Eve was nudging his hip ever so slightly with hers as they walked to gain his attention.

“Three oh clock.” James didn’t have to move to pick up the peripheral vision: a soldier, no doubt about it, though not in a garb traditional for the country. Escorting someone then. The man was speaking into a radio and couldn’t keep eyes off them.

Well, no point in subtlety when there was nowhere to run.

“We have to get off the island. Any other way out?” Eve visibly struggled for a minute before composing herself. It was a good try, but the attempt alone left Bond sniffing the stress roiling off her.

“Boat, or plane. Harder to commandeer a plane, hard enough to get out of the airport.” James looked around, subtly, his blue gaze lit on the simple electronic displays of flight times and the lighting… his mind flicked to Q, and one particularly humid day last summer when the air con system in Q Branch had blown and half the work force was running around half naked, his mate nearly included. Bond had watched him manually assemble fans in bulk on the floor of his office in nothing but trousers, non-static gloves and a sweat-slicked t-shirt.

_‘There are two things that will really cripple the nation, James, one computer at a time, and that’s heat and water.’_

“We’re not even through security, have some faith.” Bond pivoted smartly, puling Eve with him, and purposefully collided with a traveling group being led out. In the apologetic kafuffle he grabbed some water bottles and both he and Eve tumbled through a ‘service’ door.

“Play the tourist.” James grinned in her ear as two technicians stood to accost their entrance in confusion. Eve threw her bag on the floor and begun shouting in rapid Spanish, demanding a long list of grocery items from what James understood. He ducked swiftly to retrieve the thrown item, eliminating himself from an initial position of threat and becoming overlooked in the face of the female alpha’s tirade. The two workers looked horrified and hurried to ring for assistance. Eve hounded after them, gesticulating wildly and becoming ferociously vivacious whilst James took use of the distraction to head for the control panel.

_Heat and water, this one’s for you, Q._

 

-00Q00-

 

Q had been torturing himself. And all because now that he was pregnant, people couldn’t seem to leave him alone.

_‘Oooh, how far along are you?’_

_‘Nice going Boss!’_

_‘What are you hoping for?’_

_‘How did your family react?’_

_‘How did BOND react?’_

_‘How did M react?!’_

It had taken his branch approximately half a week to allow him time to recover from their knowledge of his pregnancy, and now they couldn’t keep their noses out of his business. The amount of glances sent to his stomach had become ridiculous and slightly uncomfortable, and a fair portion of his minions seemed to be physically restraining themselves from a desire to touch him with increasing difficulty.

Q supposed that would only get worse as he started to show more than just a slight bump.

He fielded all questions with bland responses such as ‘fine’ ‘well’ and ‘good’. However, due to the questions on how his family had reacted, and his impending meeting with Mycroft, Q had spent the night watching youtube. He was not proud of himself; but videos detailing couples revealing their pregnancies to each other, friends, family and the like had now reached the top of the browser popularity list.

He had used James’ computer. He wasn’t proud of that either, but he need plausible deniability at work.

It was an appalling mixture of depressing and joyful. Why did everyone have to be so damn happy about it? Of course, were Q presented with any of those reactions he would probably fake a national emergency just to get away… but still, it stung a bit that the only truly positive pregnancy reaction, other than James, had come from Alec. A trained killer.

Jealousy wasn’t something Q was particularly familiar with, and it left him feeling a bit dirty. How could he be jealous of James’ best friend? It wasn’t a pleasant feeling, especially since Alec was hardly solely congratulatory of James, but Q would always think of the man as ‘James’ friend.

Still, he was tired of the highlight of his day being filling in Blasty’s growth chart alone and going to work. He could at least look forwards to cheesecake.

Mycroft collected him outside MI6, Q had been using public transport to get to work most days whilst James was away, it was slightly more economical when he wasn’t in a rush.

Regardless of Q’s dwindling mood and stained relationships, nerves and expanding stomach, he wasn’t too proud to resist being manipulated into eating one of his favorite treats.

Mycroft’s car pulled up and the door opened to him from the inside. He was somewhat surprised to find only his brother and not his latest assistant.

“Hello dear brother.”

“Hello Mycroft. Thanks for the food.” Mycroft smiled smugly at the gratitude as Q settled in, and reached over to pat Q’s knee.

“You’re quite welcome.”

Mycroft took Q somewhere obscenely expensive and delicious and piled him with drinks, cakes and pastries whilst chatting about his woes, Q’s health, housing, and some not so subtle hints about calories in his own food.

Q should have known it was about the man’s diet. Mycroft always did let go and eat how he wanted to with more ease in company. Although, with the way his brother kept helping Q to more, smiling at him and sharing a very rare and sharp sense of humor that their family seemed to inherit… he rather thought he was being doted on. The realization was strange, but quite warming, which was even stranger. He wondered if Mycroft was just fattening him up, truly did feel bad about dieting, or was actually exhibiting his proud mother-hen side. Regardless, Q considered that this was better than his brother binge-eating at home. Technically, with the amount Q was shoveling away, they were joint-bingeing.

“Honestly My, you can eat what you want, pretty soon I’ll be balloon enough for an elephant to hide behind anyway, so you might as well take advantage. You look fine anyway.” Q managed with a mouthful of some delicious cake-y thing. Mycroft smiled in a way that reached his eyes and took years off his face. Q watched the alpha cut another slice of cheesecake and put it on his plate.

“I thought you were looking a little tubbier around the middle. It suits you Asty.”

It was amazing the amount of mortification that could be smothered by cheesecake.

 

-00Q00-

 

Apparently, water did in fact beat electricity completely in this instance, James hadn’t been aware of how effective it could be grand-scale against such unprotected devices.

Sirens sounded and were cut off, the lights went out, and the sound of panic emerged from outside.

“Time to go.” James announced, grabbing Eve by the arm, tossing her the discarded bag and wheeling them out.

The airport was in uproar, and pitch black save for phone light, which only really added to the confusion. The two operatives sneaked through huddling groups, floundering individuals and frantic staff. Their knowledge of exits was mapped out from the moment they entered the building.

Together they left, managed to sneak past the security sentry that controlled the car park, and hijack the car of a foolish onlooker who had paused to get out and watch the commotion.

Navigating the city was less favorable given the approach of the police. Eve was scrambling for signal for an escape route somewhere when the first set of bullets ricochet off the car and had them jumping and swerving the vehicle as James’ ducking lurched the steering wheel. Shots cracked the windows and rat-ta-tatted off the bodywork.

“Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck-“

“Eve! Get us out of the bloody city! And if you can’t do that then get MI6!”

 

-00Q00-

 

Being indulged and doted on by Mycroft had been embarrassingly endearing. So much so that Q was feeling quite chipper and was more than happy to listen to his brother’s woes from government and mild scolding on keeping Sherlock out of the loop still.

They left at about eight and Mycroft insisted on driving Q home, so the omega felt it courteous to offer him up for tea.

Seeing Mycroft pick through their casually messy home was a little disconcerting, but when Q slipped out of his jacket and Mycroft got a good look at him standing for the first time, the interest shifted.

“Aster…” Mycroft breathed out, and walked over, Q fidgeted a little, one of his brother’s hands going to his back and the other tracing his cardigan-covered bump for a moment.

“May I?” It was supremely awkward, but Q had vowed to be brave and Mycroft hadn’t spoiled him this much since his heat-aftermaths when he was younger. He was quite surprised by how much he missed the care. The alpha gently raised Q’s tops and wrapped his hand over the bump, petting a little. “Well well.”

It…was a little weird. Thankfully, Mycroft’s eyes soon lit onto Blasty’s growth chart. Q nearly missed the subtle hint of something that could read as pride in his brother’s eyes before curiosity took over.

“Is that the chart you mentioned?” Q nodded and followed him over, watching those familiar hands trace the line, Q felt a surge of nerves and braveness all mixed into one confusing lump. Mycroft’s eyes were a bit unreadable as they looked at the line.

“I, it isn’t filled in yet, for tonight… you can do it if you want, or not, whatever you like. It’s hardly very accurate and it is a bit silly-“ Mycroft’s embarrassed little cough and brush of fingers on his head paused him.

“Star,” His tone was mildly chastising and Q’s hoped plummeted like a rock through water. “I would be honored.” He produced a fountain pen from his pocket with a flourish and under Q’s astonished eyes turned to the chart. “How much do you note?”

“Three millimeters per day, try to keep it straight, of course its not one hundred percent accurate but that’s as near as my calculations go for average-“

“Star, stop babbling, it’s unbecoming.” Mycroft shushed, though not unkindly, and used the ruler to mark Blasty’s development.

“Six and a half centimeters. That’s quite a visible size.” They were both a bit silent and contemplative for a moment. No matter how often Q looked at the chart, he could never quite believe there was something that big growing inside of him. Apparently neither could Mycroft.

Q nuzzled his brother goodbye when he left, both a touch awkward but staying close to each other instinctively in a way that was mildly disconcerting. He shut the door behind his oldest brother and blew out a breath, a little smile coating his lips.

Just as he headed to the kitchen for some water, his phone buzzed. His MI6 phone. Groaning a little, and thinking he’d have to get the car, Q pulled it out.

_-Emergency protocol X661. 007 has the cash and under heavy assault and pursuit in hostile territory. Come in now.-_

“Shit.” World narrowing, Q grabbed his bag and flew out of their apartment and down the stairs three at a time. He emerged on the pavement just in time to see Mycroft’s car beginning to pull out. Sprinting to the black vehicle Q waved, called and banged on the doors to get it to halt, Mycroft letting him in with a bewildered expression and sharpening when he saw Q’s panic sliding under professionalism.

“What’s going on Aster?”

“Can you take me to MI6?” Q demanded as he threw himself in, eyes meeting his brother’s urgently and feeling viscerally sick. “It’s James.”

 

-00Q00-

 

“-Several guns, unknown number of assailants-“ Eve got cut off again when James had to swerve violently around a series of badly parked cars on the slim roads. Their pursuers were determined and just as reckless as Bond. Usually he had equipment or knowledge of an area to get him through these sorts of places, or intelligence. That or he was the one chasing. On the best days he had Q in his ear guiding him.

“Jesus Christ.” They swerved back onto the road, back into the machine gun fire, surely this beat up car couldn’t take much more, James was already pushing her as hard as she’d go and it was still like driving an old nag. Luckily the opposing cars weren’t much better off. “Eve get me some damn intel!”

“We need directions! Assistance! We can’t get off this bloody island without help or by obeying security laws and that just isn’t going to happen-“ Eve’s scream as their windscreen smashed in curbed everything except her swearing and Bond’s focus as he piloted the haggard car for all it was worth, MI6 struggling and panicking on the other end.

He needed Q, not the man’s minions! But another part of him was running badly on adrenaline and felt true fear at the idea of Q living this moment with him, because for the first time in a long few missions, James wasn’t sure what he could do.

Glass stung his skin and slashed cheeks and arms through his top.

_“We’re trying to get your location, but the only way out of the island nearby is the airport and the city is too blocked now to get out of. Either way you’re sitting ducks-“_

“Oh very bloody comforting!” James retorted down the phone, rolling his eyes, “Now why doesn’t someone down there actually do their damn jobs and-“ Sharp and pain and the car skidding as his body lurched and jolted towards the side disjointedly.

“JAMES!” Moneypenny was screaming and catching at him, at the wheel. It took him moments for the pain to hit with a roar and to help her vaguely steer the car back onto the road, feet working on automatic as blood pooled into his vision and warmth spread down his arm and side.

The next voice he heard nearly chilled him to the bone enough to crash again.

 

-00Q00-

 

Q managed to barely assure Mycroft he would be fine before lunging out of the door and sprinting up to the entrance of MI6 once again.

Doors opened for him as though sensing his all-consuming panic and urgency. _James, he had to get to James_! Q skidded and slipped around recently cleaned corners until he could access his clearance into his branch and tear down the hall.

The relieved and strained faces of his best and brightest did nothing to reassure him. But the sound of constant gun fire and his mate’s furious and urgent voice sent everything else spilling out of him as if he was a giant ball of yarn that James had pulled the end of from Madagascar.

A louder hail of gun fire pounded through the office making everyone flinch even as Q kept running, heard grunts of pain from-

 _“JAMES!”_ Q’s body locked up as he shot into his office and grabbed his way to the controlling laptop.

“Give me access! What the hell’s going on? _Status_ report, Double oh Seven, Moneypenny!” James' strained and agonized voice, when it sounded, nearly ripped Q apart.

 _“Q? Somebody get him out! I don’t want him to hear this!”_ The floor pitched and dropped from under Q’s feet as those words stabbed and twisted into his chest.

Cold panic and fury descended purposefully over Q as he shook in rising tension and opened up connections with his systems and the dated ones of Madagascar.

“Don’t you dare die on me while I save your life you damn bastard.” Q bit out, voice shaking with fear suppressed by rage. The bloody nerve! He could help!

“Eve. Speak. Now!” The alpha hastened to comply, briefly detailing their situation between shots whilst Q’s minions backed her up and pounded him with information. Q’s fingers hounded the keys.

 _“-and bleeding badly from the right arm and side, multiple rounds, I’m trying to pressurize-“_ Escape routes, nearest was the airport, no way out of the city-

 _“Give me room to drive woman! Q get the hell out of here, you are NOT listening to me die-“_ Airport already locked down? He had their blip on the hastily erected map, tuned in to phones of assailants-

Gunfire interrupted their screaming and bellowing and pain as whatever they were driving squealed. Q swallowed back bile until he heard them both swearing and driving on past bullets, his hands never stilled, the airport was blacked out… Visions flashed through his mind.

_“Q get out now-“_

“If its not important save your breath agent.” Q interrupted with vicious control. “Take the second left, pursuit is in convoy. Interference being initiated.”

_“Q it’s no-“_

“Sir, orders from M, the authorities are worried, he’s ordering a shut down-“

“No he’s BLOODY not.” Q snapped, fingers flying like lightning whilst his heart thundered.

_“Q-“_

“Sir-“

“SHUT UP!”

“Quartermaster.” Tanner’s demanding tone. Q didn’t give a fuck.

“Eve keep Double oh Seven stable. Bond return to the airport-“

“Q! M is ordering a-“

“Well I’m not bloody listening.” The screen flashed ready as Tanner came in and the door to Q branch opened once more, Q smelt M, heard Bond shouting at him in a rapidly weakening voice, and ignored them all.

“What are you trying to do?”

“I’m going to black out Madagascar.” M stormed in as gasps and exclamations came from around him.

“Q _stop_ -“ Q’s finger slammed down on the initiate just as James and Eve crossed the military airport barrier and it crashed down without power, cutting off their pursuers with an audible explosion… His command had been initiated clearly seconds after M’s order to stand down. Too many seconds.

Harsh breathing filled the room from all angles of communication, the only other sound the rumbling car and pained grunts from Bond. Q tried to regulate his rising panic at the fury and domination he felt tripling in M to smother the room. He felt dislocated and sick. Roughly Q tampered every reaction down except fact and action.

“I left the hospitals running, other emergency areas. Bond. Unmanned MiG-21 sitting in dock seven of the runway. Can you fly?” There was panting and growls of pain, gasps of panic from Moneypenny, but at least James seemed to have realized that he could do his damn job better than anyone. And that there was a reason he covered missions.

_“Just.”_

“Good. Fly out thirty-five miles. British Aircraft carrier is briefed to receive you and fly you on. Parachute out and down at these coordinates.”

_“Q, Q he’s bleeding pretty bad, we’re talking pints-“_

“Medical on board the carrier briefed to receive, I’m controlling the airways. Pilot if necessary Eve I can instruct you from here.”

 _“D-dammit Q-“_ James panted out, terror and horror spiked through Q, _Oh God James is hurt, badly hurt, nearly dead, nearly heard him die-_ Q steadied himself though he could feel his body starting to tremble in the onslaught of emotions, back nearly bending under M’s unforgiving and furious eyes.

There was absolute silence for the time it took them to reach the jump sight except for harsh gasps from Bond and Q’s typing, occasional instructions. They jumped. Eve confirmed two good chutes.

Q waited, held deadly still save for his increasing trembling at worry for James, fury, terror and the knowledge that M was going to punish the hell out of him for insubordination of the highest degree.

No one dared move until the two agents had been safely pulled onto the boat, Q had gradually re-instated power back into Madagascar now that his mate and friend were safely away.

 _“Safe, safe.”_ Eve managed breathlessly, the comforting sounds of familiar language around them. None of Q branch sagged in relief. Least of all Q.

“Turn it off.” M’s voice was absolutely lethal in deadly quiet, fury not concealed and punishment assured. Q gulped.

 _“Q, no! M don’t you dare-“_ Q’s finger disconnected the call swiftly and the office fell silent except for his own breathing. He didn’t dare meet his superior’s eyes.

“My office. Now.” The only thing as strong as M’s barely controlled rage was Q’s own. How dare they order him to abandon his mate? Q powered down the laptop swiftly and efficiently, and turned to leave smartly, M and Tanner on his heels.

“As you were!” barked M at his department, as their boss begun the long walk of silence.

 

-00Q00-

 

Thousands of miles away in the middle of the Indian Ocean, James swore roughly whilst rounding on Eve.

“ _Dammit_! Get me Alec, now!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the mission bits, I'm not sure how good they were, I aimed for dramatic…I may have failed 'xD  
> I guess this is a little cliffy again? Maybe? Whoops... It WILL be sorted out next chapter, which incidentally I've written quite a bit of already... I get carried away with drama *doh*  
> Hope you enjoyed. Somehow Mycroft sneaked his way in there again o.O and I had far too much fun writing Tanner!  
> ...I may be writing some bits by hand during quiet periods at work... shh, its our little secret ;D  
> Thanks for reading! n_n


	13. H0: Q copes averagely well; H1: Q? COPE?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Job searching is the bane of my existence. It goes from: _'oh hey you sexy little job you, I think we should get to know each other more, like over a job description!'_ to: _'Holy Jesus Mary and Joseph you want me to do WHAT!?!!? I can't do that, what are you CRAZY!?!?...'_  
>  Ahem. Over now, so sorry, had to get that off my chest ;D
> 
>  **In story news:** Oh my good gravy this chapter was a beast! It grew to lengths where I actually had to hack it in half lest you all receive 10,000 words D:' That's probably too much for anyone to deal with in one go!
> 
>  **WARNING:** Physical punishment makes an appearance this chapter. I want to stress that what happens in the context of this story is in no way considered illegal, or even untoward. That aside, if you find this in any way unpleasant or upsetting please take care whilst reading.  
>  It is a form of discipline that should (ideally) only to be used by responsible individuals in serious enough situations, and isn't very common anymore, being a remnant behaviour from pack-life. It should also be noted that the methods noted would be used on any sex (A/B/O) or gender (M/F), as long as it is used appropriately in fitting situations and by trusted individuals.  
> Any questions or trouble you have with it, anything you'd like me to explain or add to tags, please let me know.

“You defied my orders! Directly, in front of your entire branch because you were emotionally compromised-“

“I knew what I was doing!”

“You could have triggered an international incident by taking advantage of a lesser developed country.”

“Don’t pretend you care about my methods now when I’ve been doing whatever it takes since accepting the position and even before-“

“Get off you’re high horse Q and take responsibility for the danger you put your nation in!”

“You were going to abandon them! Your best agent and your own bloody secretary, for no good reason!”

“There was no way to evacuate them without-“

“And yet here they are safe and sound-“

“Because you defied orders! Posed a huge risk to the peace we have with other nations, let your own bloody hormones take control of your ability to think!”

“I was the ONLY one doing anything! I’ve done similar things hundreds of times before M don’t just pick on this one because you think I’m mentally incompetent due to pregnancy!”

“Well aren’t you?”

“No! They are good agents. They deserved retrieval especially when it could be _peacefully_ achieved!”

“You proved yourself an unstable liability, defied protocol, refused to stand down, chose your mate over national security, it piles up as tantamount to treason Q!”

Q shook his head and held his hands up, turning around because he couldn’t look at M without snarling, which would probably be the final nail in the coffin right now.

“The quartermaster of MI6 is allowed to make a judgment call if he believes the situation isn’t being handled properly by his superiors. That’s what I did.” Q waited for the blow, verbal or otherwise.

“Protocol requires you display and base your findings in a hearing or at least out loud rather than just…acting them out!” Q spun back, found M’s fury nearly impossible to look at but fought hard to try.

“There wasn’t any damn time for that!” M stormed forward and Q backed hurriedly into the desk as the alpha towered over him in presence.

“Prove to me that you were acting entirely logically and without extra emotional attachment and I’ll let it pass.”

“I would have done or _suggested_ the same for any agent in the field.”

“Lies.” Q gulped, tension radiating down his frame as he leant back further. “You _reek_ of panic and near-loss, you’re pale and sweaty, shaking-“

“Couldn’t have anything to do with the territorial alpha standing over me.” M snarled, Q flinched and in the background Tanner stiffened.

“You’re a miserable excuse for a quartermaster right now Q-“

“I SAVED my agents! Prevented terrorism on one of our own! Admit it; if it hadn’t been my mate, and if I wasn’t a pregnant omega we wouldn’t even be having this conversation!”

“The fact that it was 007 and that you’re pregnant are the only reasons that you aren’t down in the interrogation room instead of my office!” Q flinched back again as if slapped. “You believe you’re invincible but you can’t see just how frail this pregnancy makes you! How it controls you!” Q’s fist lashed out before he had contemplated anything other than blinding rage at the unjust judgment on his capabilities.

M’s head smacked to the side and Q squeaked in fear and scrambled to get away as the alpha turned back quicker than a flash with his whole body a threatening snarl. Large hands seized the omega and threw him to the floor with a clasp to the back of his neck.

Q struggled and thrashed and whined as M bent over him, easily pinning the slighter omega’s head and shoulders to the floor with his hips raised in the air. The position was ultimate discipline and subservience as M knelt behind him, snarling and in total control. Tanner gulped audibly in the background.

Q hadn’t been pinned since he was thirteen and had tried to steal Mycroft’s car and crashed it into the gate. Every little panicky horror came back to him and left him feeling raw and less than human. Primal, feral, and terrified at the power of alpha beating down on him from behind. Pinned and helpless.

“G-ge-get off-f me!” The hand on his throat tightened and M leant over him further, growling displeasure that made Q whimper and try to turn his face away, glasses digging into his face at an awkward, askew angle.

“You don’t even realize the problems with what you did-“

“I did! I did I weighed them up, calculated the-“

“Don’t _lie_ Q.” M’s voice was calm and dominating now as he shoved the omega’s head and neck further to the ground, the strain of the angle in Q’s back shooting pain up and down his spine.

“I think faster than you and you know it, just because nobody could keep up doesn’t mean I’m irrational!” Q may be petrified and humiliated and entirely unable to fight back, but that didn’t mean he would lie down and take it.

“You don’t accept the effect your pregnancy has had on your mind and body-“

“Because it isn’t affecting my judgment or work!” Q’s words strangled into a helpless, distressed whine when M growled, the omega trying to get out from beneath the alpha but finding it a futile attempt.

“You were completely out of control-“

“I’m a bloody genius!” Q shouted in desperation and outrage from the floor. “MI6’s bloody genius, _your_ bloody genius! You should damn well remember what I was hired for rather than my status!”

“Regardless of the success of your plan you directly rebelled against orders and don’t pretend it was because you weren’t compromised.”

“Of course I was compromised!” Q hurled out breathlessly, starting to pant and shake at the stress his body was being put through after such an emotional overload. “He’s my mate and you were going to let him die without even trying and I could save him without risking lives! Would you sit back and watch your omega die?”

“I wouldn’t let him make such rash judgments whilst under the stress of pregnancy.”

“Then why are you letting me?”

“I trusted you to be able to do your damn job within reasonable limitations! Now you’re acting as if you’re a one-man machine with free range to the country’s resources because you didn’t deign to wait and think up a better plan!”

“James was _dying_!”

“As is your ability to soundly function! But no, you don’t believe just how compromised you are!”

“Being pregnant is not a disability!” M growled and shook Q a little by the neck, it wasn’t hard but it still made him wail a bit in distress at his own powerlessness.

“The main issue here is trust, obedience, loyalty-“

“You think this will make me loyal?”

“I think you need to be reminded that whilst you are doubtless one of the most valuable people in this building that you are not God. This needs to stop here and now, I will _not_ have you endanger your country and millions of lives because you can’t learn when you’re taking it too far. If you can’t function sanely you’re worthless to me regardless of your skill. Most of all, I need to know I can trust you. Surrender that you did wrong by risking an all out attack on an entire country for the sake of your mate-”

“I was doing my job!”

M settled into his domineering position in a way that threatened a wealth of patience and control.

“Well, we’ll just be waiting here until you’ve changed your mind in that case. You need to surrender, trust me, and accept that you should have at least stated your plan to me the seconds _before_ putting it into action against orders.”

The position was awful and painful and the torrent of alpha hormones on his systems was just too much. Forced submission was an ancient form of old-world discipline. M must have thought he’d really cocked up to instigate this.

Q growled, fought, snarled and thrashed. He tried hurling accusations behind him but M remained impassive and cold and untouchable. Tanner watched the proceedings silently, and Q couldn’t get any one to _listen_ to him!

Gradually his thoughts spun out, what had he done? Could he have handled it differently? Would he have done things differently before being pregnant? Could he be asked to put so much emotion on the side in order to a do a job that forced him to have his wits about him? It was his ‘emotionality’ that had got James and the old M to Scotland; also against all knowledge of superiors… this was just grander-scale…

Right?

Was that even what M wanted from him?

Fuck, he should have contacted M, should have at least threatened to resign if they’d let James and Eve die when it was so easy to save them. Blacking out an entire island had been severe, and not subtle, and could get Britain in a lot of trouble if traced back, and he hadn’t even given M a heads up… but he hadn’t trusted M to save James. And if he didn’t trust the head of MI6 his job was forfeit.

Q whined and shook fretfully. He wanted James, he didn’t like being forced into submitting but he had to admit that M’s rage had a point… he would fire anyone who did what he had in his own branch.

Q sobbed, once, and tension melted from his frame till he collapsed onto the floor sideways. M regarded him for a moment, sighed, and reached out to help him roll over and sit up. Q kicked at him, furious still at being put through this and furious at James for trying to stop Q from being involved. He felt sick and exhausted and lashed with the solid weight of his previous panic. He didn’t want to be touched or expose his stomach.

M huffed a resigned breath and grabbed Q’s hips to pull him back up and into the submissive pose again. Q cried in frustration and misery and fought a little, but he was exhausted and tired. He had no idea how long this had been going on for. All he wanted to do was crawl into bed and curl up and bite James before kissing him. It was too much. He didn’t want to think any more; he just wanted this to be over.

He did trust M. They’d all lost their heads.

Eventually, he couldn’t cope with maintaining defiance. Q could feel the moment his brain switched to complete submission, not even resigned or tactical retreat, the hand on his neck suddenly his only grounding support and way out of his own frayed emotions. The faintest noise escaped his throat and Q dropped to the side and rolled over onto his back without encouragement. He was still panting and blinking tears from his eyes, shaking. It was like being run over. He felt terribly vulnerable.

M didn’t waste time, which was a small blessing and a large kindness.

“Good, Q. Very good.” Q sobbed a bit in relief and leaned into the platonic touch to his cheek helplessly. He was beyond caring of the state he looked in this moment. Later he’d feel anxious and raw and unsteady. Right now he was with M and the alpha was gently lifting his limp body into a sitting position against the desk.

“Thank you Q. Your trust wont be misplaced. You’ve been so very good.” He made some noise in answer and swallowed when M pressed a glass of water to his lips. “Its over now. If this ever happens again, I’ll pause to listen to you if you pause to talk to me.”

“O-okay.” He stumbled out, voice high and weak with exhaustion.

“Come on.” M shifted next to him and there was a warm coat wrapping around him, the scent of the alpha that had disciplined him was ridiculously comforting, Q could smell the acceptance. Knew he must be giving off the same scent. This incident wouldn’t come up again, and he was grateful for that much, because he did truly value his working relationship with M… even if he wasn’t sure whether he would have preferred a visit to interrogations over this, at least this wouldn’t go in his records.

The words also brought a pang of relief to Q, because it suggested that M hadn’t been entirely himself when he ordered Q drop the rescue attempt. And that meant Q could bring himself to try and trust the man again. Old-world discipline was as much a punishment for the dominant party as the submitting one. After all, there had to be a reason for insubordination, it was the role of dominant party to show responsibility, tact and care. Fix the mistake.

As M helped Q stand, pushed his glasses back on, and walked him out with a firm arm of support, Q knew M was giving them both a way out from this. The alpha would take better care of his agents and Q would try to leave off on taking such a severe course of action without thinking other options through. The stress of the week had practically turned the omega into his brothers in their complete conviction of themselves… something he had sworn never to do again after Silva. He was, after all, being paid to do a job, and being trusted to run missions with his own mate in them.

M allowed him back into his branch in order to make sure that James had received medical help and the two agents were booked for a plane home. M himself went to go and attempt smoothing things over with the powers that be.

An hour later Q had confirmed James and Eve’s trailing flight plan throughout Asia and Europe. He couldn’t stop shaking. M came back to get him, took a long careful look at his quartermaster, and ushered him out.

He was getting in a bit of a state; weak and sick and shaky and with an anger building at James again for trying to refuse Q access… for not being able to stop him from being disciplined, for some sort of betrayal. For being disciplined, for being in a position that made others question his ability to do his job…

Q knew it wasn’t entirely rational. He didn’t really care. He was feeling antsy and anxious in rising increments and couldn’t control his breathing properly; feeling on the edge of vomiting or tears, stomach roiling, back tensed.

M got him into the car, alongside Tanner, and took him home.

Tanner walked Q up to his flat after M had confirmed that Q was okay and stable enough. The omega could at least appreciate M giving him space. His brain was buzzing and thumping and he wanted to lock the doors and never come out. He could barely manage the key.

“You’ll be alright?” Tanner asked, hand on Q’s arm. Q nodded brusquely and shook out of the hold to slip inside and shut the door behind him… For a moment he leant against it, and then the auditory images he’d been holding back flooded over the sandbags and swamped him- _James nearly died, James dying, James bleeding, James bleeding to death and in pain and being shot at and ordering Q to go!_

Q bolted for the bathroom and vomited through tears. He couldn’t stop, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t cope- He wrenched away from the toilet after ten minutes to wash his face, fell into helpless tears of terror at having heard James dying and his legs buckled from under him, dropping him to the floor. James should have wanted to let him help! Q thrashed and snarled, smothering his voice in his arms and then proceeded to bite hard into his arm to try and fight off the sense of betrayal that accompanied his furious panic attack.

Throttling his own arm and kicking the wall Q cried and cried and sobbed until he couldn’t even breathe in air and had to choke in gasping breaths, collapsing into a puddle of exhaustion and weak misery, the taste of blood in his mouth.

How could James do that to him? Surely his alpha would have known that not being there, not helping would have killed Q? Did his own mate think Q was as weak and unable to cope as all the others?

Fatigue spooned lead over his body as Q lay in place and sobbed a little, feeling pathetic, biting his arm in frustration at feeling pathetic. God he had been so scared of loosing James that he _had_ lost control. M’s discipline had really shaken him too.

Q didn’t move from the bathroom for hours, wondering just why the hell life had to get so hard? Whether he was truly as weak as everyone seemed to think he was, as weak as he felt right now…

The door hammered with knocks before bursting open.

“Q? Q! James sent me over to check on you, said shit had hit the fan with M… Damn it smells like stress in here.” Alec Trevelyan was storming through the flat to find him, voice hard and frenetic with worry. Panic gripped Q at the thought of being seen like this yet _again_ today.

Q hurriedly kicked the door shut and scrambled up enough to lock it before 006 could get there. He slumped to the cool tiles listlessly as Alec begun hammering on the door.

"Q, are you alright? Come on, don't make me kick the door down."

"Don't you dare." Q managed, though his voice was still quiet and low, wobbly. "I'm fine…" He took a deep breath and tried to school his voice into something stronger, more appropriate. "I'd rather you didn't see me like this, to be honest." The statement was a little humiliating, because it revealed he was in a state less than in control, but he hoped that the man would understand.

There was the sound of a gentle thunk on the door, like a resting hand or head.

"I'm not here as double oh six, Q." on the floor, weak and miserable, Q huffed a distressed sob that he couldn't tell from resistance or plea. The man's voice was endlessly gentle yet calm, practical. Of course Alec wasn't here in an official capacity but he still had to go to work with the man.

"That doesn't really help me here." Q admitted with a tired, tearful hush.

"We're pack, Q, brothers, friends, family… call it what you want. If not between ourselves, then at least through James. Come on, let me in, don't make me leave you like this… I have to admit I thought we were closer than that."

"Shh." Q hushed, sobbing a little, feeling small and vulnerable and more than a little pathetically guilty at giving Alec the impression he wasn't important.

"If you're manipulating me, I'm going to bite you." Q threatened, though it was lost in a weak, almost desperate laugh.

"Never, Q." All steel and promise. Q squeezed his eyes shut to the hot splash of tears and wondered just how he had unwittingly gained such unbelievable connections in his previously distressingly fraught and lonely life. "Can you at least come out so I can see you're okay? I don't have to stay if you want me gone, but you should know I'll be watching the house anyway… and it’s raining."

The placating, more humorous tone allowed Q to feel a bit more in control. He at least didn't have to meet 006 on the floor of his bathroom in tears. He had that much choice.

"…Okay." He muttered, "Okay." Alec's relieved sigh could be heard from the other side of the door. Q stumbled his way up, feeling a little nauseous and disturbingly light headed. The faintness pushed any thoughts of cleaning up to the back of his mind, other than pulling his sleeve down to hide the self-inflicted bites. He just wanted to go curl up somewhere until this was over and James was back home… though he wasn't looking forwards to that particularly. After all, he still felt more than a little knocked sick at what had happened tonight over the comms.

Instead Q grabbed for the door, body lolling a little, and unlocked it, pulled it open. Old humiliation and the ingrained desire to hide from anyone whilst he was upset swamped Q enough that he couldn't even lift his head to meet the agent's eyes. Dimly he registered slight shaking in his extremities as he fiddled with the handle, eyes fixed somewhere unreal and old.

What a wonderful example of weak omega he made right now. Proving his family right, M right, everyone right… maybe even James and the man who stood in front of him. A sob that was part misery and part hateful disgust caught his throat.

"Do you want me to leave?" Alec asked, low and without joke. Q knew that he would leave if asked, though probably not far, but at least he would. Quite frankly, Q just didn't know anymore though. James had thrown him, and the near-death had terrified and mauled him, and he hadn't been pinned down for years-

"I _hate_ -" Q cut himself off with his hands rubbing over himself, dear God he needed to get a grip. Instead he shook his head when he felt Alec shift a little.

They stood there for the longest time, silently, unmoving. Eventually Q sniffed and tried to gather his breath.

"I think you should leave. I don't want you to remember this, the next time I'm directing you on a mission." The words tasted like ash, because of course 006 would remember exactly this; his quartermaster weak, trembling, unable to cope. And no one forgave omegas of weakness. The first instant you showed a hint of emotion snap- respect gone. Labeled emotional and unable to cope with stress. Alec slouched a bit.

"If that's what you want, but you should know, I don't judge people for being human. Especially not you." The final sentence eclipsed the others like guillotined neck until Q snapped, glaring at the alpha with a tangled fray of emotions.

"Just because I'm pregnant or an omega or whatever it is that makes you all judge me worthless and pathetic does not mean I can't cope-"

"No." Q's fury cleared enough to see the naked pain and hurt on Alec's face, the anger. "I don't know who the hell taught you that Q, but just no." the omega just frowned until Alec bent enough to look him in the eyes solidly. "You've listened to me swear, kill, watched some of my least proud moments… and you still welcome me back like a human being, all of us double ohs. You can't possibly imagine it, but that means a hell of a lot to some pretty screwed up and over people, and it ain't that common. That's what I meant. Rest of the world can go fuck itself for all I care, and I ain't one for pretty speeches, but that's enough for me, whatever your gender or sex is. You matter, Q."

He couldn't speak, the words took a long time in processing through everything, and Alec nodded at him as if he didn't expect a reply, hadn't just upturned all of Q's childhood beliefs. Without another word, 006 left Q standing in his bathroom doorway and left the flat as bid. Q slowly sank down to the floor, curling up in a shell shocked ball from the hours of stress, and wondered why he wasn't willing to make a nest to comfort himself.

It was after a good few hours of traipsing aimlessly around the house and dragging himself through tasks, that Q found himself in the doorway to his apartment building. He couldn't just leave Alec out there in the rain. Slowly he opened the door and stepped out enough to see the alpha smoking up into the sky.

"Alec," Surprised eyes turned to him. "You can come in, if you want." The man grinned, and stubbed out his cigarette.

"Always."

Q led the way back up to the flat in silence, feet dragging with fatigue, closing the door behind 006 and locking it listlessly. Amidst all his inner fog of chaos, there was only one thing he could think with any clarity;

"Of course you double ohs are human." The impression otherwise was just agonizing.

"You wouldn't believe how few people truly think that… It's nice to have someone at our back who thinks we are, thinks we matter, and deserve to come home." Silent morosity weighed the air for long moments. Q didn't attempt to meet the man's gaze. After a while he gestured around loosely

"Make yourself at home… I'm going to be… nesting." He admitted. Alec offered a smile-grin that seemed happy at the very thought rather than patronizing.

"Can I join you?" Q looked up sharply in surprise, and the alpha shrugged somewhat sheepishly. "I haven't denned in ages." Flushing a bit, but easily hearing the hidden hope in the agent's tone, Q nodded and indicated the closet where he kept all the spare bedding.

An hour later, he and Alec were having a minor domestic about blanket over cushions or cushions over blanket. Twenty minutes past that they decided on blanket-cushion-blanket as compromise. Ten minutes later Q was struggling to breathe as Alec mercilessly tickled him, whilst allowing Q to play-bite against his tackles.

Not long after that he was asleep.

When Q woke, he was in the middle of a wonderfully soft cocoon of padding and heat, tucked up and under James' old navy jumper beneath a blanket. Alec was gone except for a posit note on the table that read:

_-Cheers Q. Got hungry. Only cheese in fridge. Took the black cushion. Alec.-_

Q couldn't help but snort. As packs go, this one wasn't too bad, really.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so, I'm sure this will spark some controversy *hides from pitchforks*, and I'm happy to explain anything to anyone who feels uncomfortable, if that would help...or, just feel free to rant at me! I hope no one was upset, and that it wasn't too dark or anger-mongering (though I understand if it was!). It was quite hard to get that scene across as something that, though severe, would not be unheard of in extreme circumstances, and was not intended in any way as cruelty... best way I can 'rationalise' this is that, as its A/B/O, some pack mentalities are inherent nature- e.g. dogs regularly mount each other to assert a dominant pack position, the more submissive individual is not hurt by this. Of course its very different, hence the stress of it, and maybe not good as an example... oh god I can't stop talking now! *is worried*
> 
> Phew, sorry, had to get that out! ...So, I should finish the next chapter today and will hopefully put it up tomorrow, but I couldn't manage with the whole thing in one go, please forgive me for that n_n' I cut it into Q and Bond's POV's instead.
> 
> Once this segment is over, we should be back on normal pregnancy, Holmes, stuff (Woo!) for a while (*nervous laughter* until my brain attacks me again! *more nervous laughter*)  
> And I PROMISE not long till Sherly... I swear this time! ;D
> 
> Anyway, I really hope you all enjoyed. I know this is really getting kind of long (with no signs of stopping), but I hope that its in a good way! I love Alec, and so, yeah, I couldn't resist following my drama injection with a course of broad-spectrum fluff n_n
> 
> Thank you so so so soooo much for reading and commenting and kudosing! *MILLIONS of hugs. _Millions_.* :D
> 
> P.S. I'm well aware these notes are ridonkulously long. It's a failing. I hope you can forgive me for loving to chatter! ;3


	14. H0: Nothings wrong; H1: There's something that isn't wrong?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I...really don't think I have anything left to offer considering the last chapter. I hope that I've answered the issues raised as best as I can in replies to comments, and though I don't hope to satisfy every one of the varied opinions with this chapter, hopefully...something, I don't know. My head and heart hurts, I never meant to come across as an insensitive or uncompassionate writer or person.  
> When I originally wrote this whole thing, I was much more focused on Q and Bond's relationship, and the tension the mission caused there, rather than M's actions. Not necessarily correct, but that was my personal main driving point and train of thought.  
> I feel like I turned my poor little baby of a story turned into a monster! D:
> 
> Um, anyway, I had a fair few panic attacks! I considered having M resign, kill himself, delete the last chapter and rewrite it, leave it till next week instead... But I decided to just keep going, and give you this update as soon and long as it happened.  
> Everything is pretty much the original content, but I expanded some later scenes to accommodate views that I simply wouldn't have thought of without all of your passionate response.
> 
> Thank you for being kind about your thoughts, and I hope this chapter helps alleviate the situation of the previous one however it can.

James was a ball of tangled nerves, each twisting or pressing on one another to spark pain, anger, fear, fret, guilt, concern, longing…

His side had received more stitches than any one gun had caused him in living memory, and there would be an impressive new tapestry of scars stretching from waist to armpit and down his right arm that he hoped Q would trace over in due time. Those eloquent and clever fingers absently mapping out his skin to memory had done more for him than any doctor or physical therapy ever had.

The threat of the truly horrible mess that this mission had turned out to be for all involved was making James feel almost as nauseous as his pregnant mate had been.

Eve was clearly scarred for life of missions. Having James nearly die on her twice had hardly helped. He wouldn’t be surprised if she was envisioning kissing the ground of Great Britain to while away their extravagant travel time getting home.

M seemed to be gunning for Q. James had sent every threatening and warning message he could to the other alpha through every medium available about what should happen if he so much as harmed a hair on the quartermaster’s head. But other than some bland assurances of ‘appropriate measures’ and Q’s continued ‘health’ and ‘ability to work’ being briefly called into question and settled, he received nothing. The whole situation made his hands instantly clench and tear at items in reach with anger and anxiety; he knew just how much Q hated having his ability to do his job called up.

Q wasn’t replying to James’ messages, except with a brief ‘fine’ when questioned on his health and safety. The word somehow managed to sound venomously icy through four typed characters. Q was mad at him. Q was clearly furious at him and it struck James in the most uncomfortable of ways. He knew that the whole situation must have been appalling for the omega to hear, and that James had said some things that he didn’t regret, per say, but knew would effect Q badly. Still, it was the heat of the moment, an impossible moment, and Q had seen him at his worst before now… He just knew he needed to see his mate in person and explain himself properly, Q was surely worried as well as angry. He wouldn’t believe that this would mark some finality for them. What worried him just as seriously was whatever had occurred post their mission communication.

Alec had reported back from visiting Q with remarks that were far from reassuring. James had contacted him as a friend and loyalist of both himself and Q. In that moment there had been no one else that he trusted more with his mate’s safety. The agent’s statements reflected that he had gone over, and found Q in a complete state, thought he omega was clearly trying to hide it. Some comments about Q being shaky and self-degrading in an imposed upon fashion, though Alec couldn’t tell who had inflicted that damage, whether it was M or just the omega’s own beliefs. Most worryingly, Alec had been actually concerned himself, especially with Q’s biting habits, which was another thing the younger man had clearly tried to hide. It made James’ stomach clench. Q didn’t bite himself often, at least, but it was only the most severe of measures. He was quite mouthy anyway, apparently Alec had let the omega play-bite him, and thought that it might have something to do with his childhood. No surprises there.

At least Alec somewhat reassured James that he had been able to get Q to calm down a bit and get some sleep, although apparently the omega had managed to ease himself out of distress at least a little before inviting Alec back inside. Either way, now Alec was worried about both of them, his always ready to pounce protective streak leaping into action for the mated pair. He was also digging for questions on Q’s family and upbringing. James didn’t even want to start poking at that can of worms with a branch whilst Alec was in the vicinity. Things on that end were complicated enough as it was.

As for James, he was being battered with so much internal fireworks that it was becoming hard to cope. His worry for Eve’s mental state, Q’s entire being, Alec’s perceptiveness, M’s punishment… The residual stress and anger, insecurity and pain over such a disastrous mission… Being away from Q…

God how he needed Q. It was like only being half able to breathe, and it didn’t help that he was injured.

Touching down at Heathrow was rarely such a strangled myriad of emotions. Beside him, he felt Eve was in much the same boat.

She had been ecstatic to hear about Q’s pregnancy, excited coos and vibrant wit for all of two minutes before the reality of the situation sunk in with the way their mission had gone and how that must have sounded back home… the threat of Mallory’s disciplinary action for Q’s clearly excessive and mate-driven insubordination obviously weighing heavily on the male alpha.

James had been astounded once again by Q’s ability to cripple an entire nation, had been thrilled by his mate using considerable skill and backbone to salvage a swiftly downhill mission… But he had lived through and initiated enough severe smashing of the rulebook’s to know a bad one when he saw it, and that worried him.

The alpha knew that this could have gone government. And that if it were James pulling the same plays, there would be some serious stick from above. Quite possibly featuring detention and ‘re-training’.

The thought of either of those things happening to Q left him feeling sick to his bones and desperate to lay his own hands and eyes on Q.

Given the severity of everything, James was not surprised to see a black-tinted windowed car to pull up for the pair of them. What sat inside, however, was a surprise.

“Do get in, Bond, and kindly inform Miss Moneypenny that an agency driver will be along for her shortly.” Eve just raised an eyebrow at him. James felt his innards set as rocks from their squirming. If Mycroft had gotten himself involved, things were clearly even worse than James had thought. Either from a governmental point of view, or a Q point of view.

Or, potentially and terrifyingly; both.

James bid Eve a solemn farewell for the time being, and clambered in the car whilst trying not to favor his injured side, seeing her face confused and worried for her own ends, he assured her he’d call, and made sure that she’d do the same, before closing the door shut.

The soft ‘thunk’ of the door sealing seemed to steal all the noise and interference from the air. James let out a slow breath steadily through his nose and turned to Mycroft Holmes, not at all ready for the worst.

“I’m here to bring you home to Q.” Mycroft informed, not turning to look at the agent beside him. James frowned and turned to the blacked out divider in front of him.

“Did he call you?” That seemed strange for Q after an argument… unless he was really hurt. The weight of that thought settled like a brick in his stomach.

“No, I realized the necessity of your return when I worked out that my brother had blacked out the entirety of Madagascar.” James turned to give the other alpha an appraising glance; Mycroft gave nothing away in a truly disconcerting way. “I was called into the office not a half hour after dropping my darling brother off at MI6 after a crises of his own involving you. Quite the uproar. No one could quite pin point who had attacked the island so thoroughly yet compassionately. I know my brother’s signature when I see it.”

“His signature?” Bond questioned, and Mycroft finally turned to him, expression grim yet set in something that wasn’t wholly dispassionate.

“Yes; absolutes.” The blonde sat back a bit, rapid-fire memories of his missions with Q flickering on the surface of his mind. Absolute was an apt way to describe Q’s methods of work in the most dire of situations.

“A method he favored as a child. Complete removal, complete destruction, complete devotion. All his most emotive or necessary of actions were dealt in absolutes. I wouldn’t have expected you to notice it.”

James might have been insulted, if he’d a) had the ability to care right now, or b) wasn’t slightly amused by how truly unintelligent Mycroft Holmes judged the world to be.

God what he must have been like to grow up with…

“I’m assuming that I have no reason to be worried about returning you to my brother?” The coolly asked question had James refocusing swiftly.

“None.” They traded stares for a moment.

“Good.” There was silence until they turned down the street to James and Q’s flat, where upon Mycroft piped up again before releasing the car locks. “I believe that my brother is truly besotted with you, and that that has not been entirely unjustly won. But I should warn you that if I find this incident and the repercussions have affected Aster unduly, or if you have hurt him in some other fashion; there will be no place on this earth in which you could hide. Do not test any of us.” James took the words in for a good long moment. They deserved as such, although he was slightly amused at being given the ‘big brother’ speech by Mycroft, the threat was undeniable. The drop in the other alpha’s voice was almost enough to prickle the hair on his neck, and there was no denying the sincerity in those eyes.

“If I ever do hurt him without intent to undo such damage, I would expect nothing less… However, I find that I should report the same back to you. You know who I am and what I can do, most importantly you should know how I feel about your brother.” Mycroft accepted this with a duck of head, but he combined it with a suggestive raise of eyebrows that was so ‘Q’ it threw James a little.

“Yet you do not know who I am, or what I can do.” The chill of those words was astounding, because it was entirely true. Their silence extended for a moment before the door unlocked under Mycroft’s command.

“I would advise you to let Aster take care of you just as you would take care of him, and I do not advise lightly.” Mycroft pulled out his phone. “I hope you plan to make good on your oath of the other night. Nice to see you.” James considered himself dismissed, slightly baffled by the other alpha’s ‘double entendre’ comments. He huffed as he let himself out.

“Thanks for the lift.” He muttered with sarcasm as he clambered out slightly awkwardly; his injured side made grace hard to come by. He was beginning to think that just as much as he didn’t want to know about Q’s family; he very badly needed to know.

 

-00Q00-

 

Mycroft’s car left James at the doors of his and Q’s home. He watched them leave before approaching the main door and letting himself in.

The various reports from Alec and Mycroft, who seemed to know a confusing amount about the affair; half-truths and concealed sureties, depicted nothing calming.

No small amount of trepidation marred James’ footsteps as he ascended to the flat. There was no indication of anything amiss outside, nor any hint of what the agent might find inside. He could only hope that since it was a Sunday, Q would have been able to relax at home and hopefully therefore be more relaxed. Yet, knowing Q, that only meant he’d spent the day worrying and winding himself up without ample distraction. The agent was left with the disconcerting feeling of being a convicted man; torn between the knowledge that Q was upset and potentially hurt, that that was at least in part due to James himself nearly dying over the comms, and the almost painful need to see his mate. Hold him again. Remember him. Even if he wouldn’t be able to scoop Q up as easily as desired with the damn wounds… Besides, would Q even let him?

From the state Alec had described, James wasn’t sure of anything, and the younger man hadn’t been exactly communicative in the past 24 hours.

Truthfully it had been so long since James was last away on a mission that he had forgotten just how much it hurt to be away from Q. And nearly dying hadn’t helped. Certainly the pain and medication for said pain he was on weren’t aiding his thoughts from spiraling into anxiety from his usual control, far too close to the surface of awareness for his comfort.

Faithfully the door yielded under James’ key and code. The alpha took a deep, calming breath, and he was home…

Q looked up from the couch in dull surprise, surrounded by a nest of fitfully placed blankets.

“Q.” Q whined and turned away, shoulders shaking and face pinched with fighting the desire to go to his mate. James shut the door carefully behind him, a grimace painting his own expression at the strain, at the drawn look and weakly distressed and exhausted scent of his Q.

An awkward silence dominated for a moment before both mates spoke in unison.

“Did Mallory hurt you?”

“Are you alright?”

Q huffed a weak, sardonic smile.

“No. But he made himself quite clear.” James’ shoulders tensed painfully and shook with the strain of tempering his own rage. The pull hurt, but not as much as the thought of Q being subjected to any kind of disciplinary action.

“What did he do?” It was barely phrased as a question, and was more growl than words. James tried to control himself from lurching into action for dual fear of angering Q with his own anger, or hurting his potentially hurt omega further. Q looked to him rapidly and away, angling himself in avoidance of the alpha. It took a moment for him to gather himself enough to speak, and when he did his voice was blandly cold and clipped.

“He pinned me. It was quite effective considering the situation.” Considering that James had been hurt. Considering that Q was likely severely upset… Considering that James hadn’t been there to look after him, stand up for him in the face of another alpha; regardless of Q’s own capability to care for himself, neither would have been in their right minds at the time.

James’ growl left sharp and unbidden, and Q seemed torn between anger and anxiety.

Old-world discipline was far too personal, intimate, for James’ liking, and yet enough of a concession on Mallory’s part compared to detention, torture, demotion or interrogation that he was grateful for it. Still, it was instinctual, and deeply ingrained… the procedure could have an effect on the individuals even days after the event.

Seeing his usually feisty and confident Q so unsure was utterly hateful for James… He hated that he was part of the reason for that even more.

“Has he taken care of you?” The tone was as civil as Bond could force it to be. Thus it sounded more like a breathed rockslide than a sentence. Q sighed roughly and rubbed his face.

“Yes.”

“How?” At James’ demand Q dropped his hands and shot his eyes to the ceiling in a half mix of plea for help and angry frustration.

“Gave me water, told me I was good, lent his coat and drove me home.” Q recited swiftly and sharply to the air above him before throwing James a look that wasn’t quite scathing enough to disguise the hurt and distress. “Tanner was witness and the video’s on file, want to look?” James’ tension sagged in regret and hurt.

“Come on Q, that’s not fair.” Q froze, eyes fixed on the wall opposite and livid. “I didn’t want that to happen, how could I? I tried to get back quickly, sent over Alec to make sure you were okay, left at least a dozen threats to M in as many varying mediums…” James trailed off weakly. They were all valid points, he had taken every step an alpha could when a threat was made to his omega, and it would all count, were it not for-

“Q. Somebody get him out. I don’t want him to hear this.” James snapped his mouth shut as Q turned to him, glare in his eyes matching the unbearable emotions in his raggedly tense yet quiet voice. “Did you not think, for a second, that it would kill me to hear that?” His omega’s voice was so full of pain and rage that James’ tongue hastened to attempt defense.

“I didn’t want to hurt-“ Q shot to his feet with a wretched noise.

“And how would you feel if _I_ was the one hurt, injured, scared, and _refused_ to let you help me or even be near enough to be there for me!” Q’s shout struck some anger of James’ own, masking his on paralyzing terror at the very idea.

“I just didn’t want you to hear me get killed! Is that so bloody wrong? I was trying to protect you!”

“By _separating_ me!” Q gasped out, betrayed and agonized, taking a step back and away from James. “By not trusting me, by not letting me even attempt to help you!” The words turned to sobs and every atom of James’ being begged to stop this, needed to stop this.

“I was stressed! I know I did wrong but can you honestly say that in the same position you wouldn’t try to excuse me from further pain?” He shouted the words out through a strangle, panting slightly as Q’s breathing was slightly fast, his mate’s expression breaking into pieces.

“Y-you promised me. We promised, that no matter what, we’d stick with each other.” Q breathed out, and stumbled back a step, catching his feet on the couch. James was catching and supporting him in an instant, holding onto Q as he tried to curl up, struggling to suppress tears and covering them with his hands when he couldn’t.

“I know, I know.” They stood like that for minutes, struggling to either fully connect or separate. Finally Q sucked in a deep breath and sobbed out chocked and broken words.

“I thought my heart was breaking.” James didn’t need to ask to know this was as much about his near-death as the broken promise.

“All I could think of was you.” James breathed out, voice low and tight with barely-suppressed emotions. He pulled Q close, still gently, just holding the omega against his chest. “To get out, to get back to you… Panicked, didn’t think I could, Eve was nearly broken, and that didn’t help, couldn’t see a way out… couldn’t see a way to save myself, save you from the pain of loosing me, couldn’t stand it, had to prevent it all together… God it was all I could think of, not to let you get hurt.” James voice croaked and he ducked his head to Q’s trembling shoulder. “I’m so sorry you were hurt for it.” His choked words met no reply for the longest time, enough to make him grow tense in apprehension of Q’s rejection of his feelings.

“Q?” His mate took a shuddering breath, entirely apprehensive as well.

“Y-you w-weren’t d-doubting me? That I was j-just pregnant and an omega and weak and useless-“

“Christ _no_ Q.” James assured rapidly, urgently, pushing Q back enough to meet eyes that were struggling to be un-evasive. “Never. You are the single most impressive person I’ve ever met, and one of only two I’d ever trust with my life, and I hate it every single time there’s anyone in my ear other than you.” Q glanced up, eyes desperate to believe.

Mycroft’s words rang in James’ ears, _“I would advise you to let Aster take care of you just as you would take care of him, and I do not advise lightly.”_

“You being an omega, pregnant… God those are important Q, but not in the way you think them to be, not to me.” Q shut his eyes, huffed a bit of self-ridiculing laughter for a breath, and brought his hands up to hold onto James’ biceps loosely.

“Alec said pretty much the same thing, actually.” Q admitted, and by the tone in his voice tension unwound and loosened, leaving James almost weak with relief and the re-forming sense of calm within their home. He chuffed a small smile.

“Well, Alec’s parents were both omegas. He’s probably the most respectful of the lot of us, believe it or not. Taught me a few things.” Q breathed out long and in realization, eyes opening to gaze at the wall in memory.

“Ohhh. Well that explains why he wanted to join in nesting.” James laughed weakly at that.

“Did he? No wonder he’s always been asking to spend the night, he’s probably been trying to get you alone for weeks.”

Q smacked him lightly, a barely noticeable chastisement, and gripped onto him at the end of it. He was smiling, only a very little, but still there, and James couldn’t be more relieved to be home.

 

-00Q00-

 

Everything was still a little fraught and distressing for the both of them. Q was still raw from the discipline and emotional overload, James raw from his injuries and relinquished fret. They could neither collapse together nor ignore each other.

Q insisted on kissing and gently caressing each of James’ wounds, and would then move away to busy himself with something finicky, hands shaking. James would follow Q from one room to the other, hovering, occasionally suggesting eating, drinking or cleaning before Q would push him into a chair because of his wounds. Whenever Q left the room, James would be off up again.

They chewed unsatisfying nibbles until Q finally gave in and texted Mycroft to send food around.

A decent meal helped settle them a lot. Q agreed to take a relaxing shower if James agreed to take a quick clean, change of clothes, some painkillers and stop moving to get some rest.

Despite his best intentions a full stomach, medication, the scent of home and mate and the knowledge of Q just a door away lulled James into a deep, dosed sleep on the bed.

He woke drowsily a few times for long enough to note that it was late and Q wasn’t with him, and to sniff enough to ascertain his sleeping-scent next door. It hurt a bit, but wasn’t so surprising, that Q had taken the sofa.

After intermittent wakings James was finally roused by the feeling and warmth of Q slipping in to their bed. James was sprawled over most of Q’s side for the smell, and at first the omega clung tight to the edge of the bed.

Through incremental sleepy movements hands clasped and intertwined, fingers locking…

By the morning James was stiff and aching, medication long worn off, but Q was loosely curled into him, acting as something of a pillow for the alpha’s injured side to lean on. One of James’ hands was splayed over a bigger bump than he remembered, and tightened a little in need and pride and protectiveness. Q moaned a little, softly, contentedly, and begun a long series of horizontal stretches that were vaguely cat like before curling up again, arms and hands encompassing James’ on his belly.

Stroking the skin there gently, James found himself relaxing back under, drifting back to sleep, Q working better for him than the strongest dose of morphine…

If Q’s stomach had already swollen in about a week, James relished the thought of seeing their pup’s growth chart, almost high on the pleasure of being with his mate again, and having Q safe and secure in his arms.

 

-00Q00-

 

James insisted on Q staying at home the next day.

“Not because you couldn’t manage, but because it’s inappropriate that you go to work for the bastard.” Q watched him nervously as Bond checked and holstered his gun.

“What are you doing?” He near whispered. And oh, didn’t it _hurt_ to hear Q sound so small when by all rights he should be ranting and raving at either one of the alphas in his life.

“This wasn’t appropriate-“

“It’s happened before to me.” Q shrugged, James shoved a second gun away roughly and spun back to Q, whose eyes widened fractionally in surprise.

“That _does not_ make it okay.” His hand found Q’s stomach with unerring ease and the other navigated to hold the back of his mate’s head, caressing.

“This is why. It shouldn’t have happened when I wasn’t there for you anyway, and to make you roll over…” James had to pause to relax his tense muscles. Although M wasn’t a man that the alpha thought would ever harm one of his employees, there were circumstances that forced the whole incident into jagged pieces in his mind. Not the least because of how shaken Q truly was over it. “Can’t you understand what he did to you?” Q snorted weakly, fingers twisting in the over-large shirt of James’ that the alpha had put on him.

“Of course I can, but we can’t just go around… shooting people.” James grinned brightly, entirely odds with the boiling fury he was feeling inside, the darkly enraged emotions that he didn’t dare show to Q when he was like this, had no chance to calm his alpha down.

“But I have a license to kill, love, that’s all I do do.” Q shook his head, but couldn’t fight back the small flash of near hysterical laughter. James was glad that Q was still showing signs of humor beneath the tension, and he badly felt the need to stay with him, but this could not go unaddressed. To many liberties had been taken. Not to mention; James _despised_ anything that forced Q to do anything against his will. Even if it was the lesser of two evils, and he trusted M to hurt Q less than those down in Interrogations and Detention, he would not let such treatment of his mate be viewed in any way as an appropriate course of action.

Not when Q was pregnant. Not when Q was hurting. Not when Q was Q.

“I don’t want you to go.” Q admitted, a little whine of insecurity in his voice. The sound cemented the festering rage deeply in James’ chest, the conviction in his mind. He ducked to kiss Q on the mouth, eyelids, forehead, ears, jaw, Q whined and grappled his way into the contact.

“I’ll be back in less than three hours, and then I’m going to hold you close and feed you that ridiculously expensive ice cream that your brother sent over last night, and we’re going to watch atrocious movies together whilst I do my best impression of an octopus stuck to your side.” Q managed to laugh a little, weakly, fingers clenching and releasing in James’ shirt.

“Can’t we just do that now? And forget this happened?” Q wasn’t making eye contact, and James hated it, he ducked to meet the omega’s gaze once again, and held his face with both hands.

“You know I can’t, love.” Q blinked rapidly and shoved himself into a brief kiss that said no small amount of nervous gratitude, licking his lips after.

“Alright darling.” He conceded, stroking James’ chest briefly. The alpha’s heart lit up like a fog light at the infrequently used pet name. He kissed Q once more, knelt awkwardly to gently push up Q’s clothes and kiss his belly gently, thumb tenderly stroking the swell of their pup and feeling a surge of protectiveness well up inside at the pair of his mate and unborn child.

“I’ve got you,” He murmured to the bump, and rose once again to kiss a slightly dazed and astonished looking Q. “I’ve got you, Q.” His omega’s noise of relief and longing were gratifying and assuring. James would not let him down.

“I’ve texted Alec, he should be here soon.” Q opened his mouth, then closed it and shook his head. “What?”

“Nothing.” James frowned at the conditioned submission, gut twisting in fret.

“Would you rather I called someone else? Mycroft?” Personally James knew who he’d rather have with him, but maybe the thought of family, no matter how screwed, was what Q needed right now? Q shook his head more decisively.

“No. No not until everything’s sorted, he’ll be atrocious otherwise. Maybe later.” The thought lit in James’ mind to call Mycroft and detail exactly what happened… he was pretty sure the other alpha’s position in government would pack a fair punch with Mallory. But no, not yet; James wanted to handle this on his own first.

“Okay, whatever you want, Q. He should be over soon. I’ll be back soon.” Q nodded with a little trepidation, and James guided him to the fridge to get something to eat before kissing Q’s neck.

“I’ll be back before you know it.” He stepped back and out of Q’s reach, trying to ignore the miserable slight pout of his omega wanting him closer. “Soon, I promise.”

With that he turned and left, having no doubts that Alec would take care of Q.

 

-00Q00-

 

It was early enough that most of MI6 was still running on the night shift. Breaking into M’s office posed no problem for James Bond, and he waited in there, lurking in the dark beside the light switch and letting his anger rage in the way he couldn’t around a distressed and pregnant Q. He waited no more than ten minutes before M’s scent entered the room and Bond prepared to flick the light switch, intent on aiming his first punch directly to M’s head in a blow to send him to the same ground the alpha had sent Q to.

The instant light bathed the room and M switched to attention, James saw that someone had beaten him to it… The furiously black-red bruising extending over the left side of M’s face was from more than just one hit… New fury welled up in the growling agent at the thought of his mate being driven to such extreme measures to try and defend himself.

“Are those from Q?” He asked, voice low and lethal. M’s expression was shadowed, dull but not unresponsive… there was something in his eyes…

“No. They’re from _my_ omega.” That caused James pause, caught entirely by surprise enough to clear his mind a little of rage. 

“And did you pin _him_ for it?” M dropped his briefcase on the desk and sighed ruefully, placing his hands on his hips.

“No, I let him carry on.” Guilt. That was the emotion in M’s eyes, stronger than that was regret.

“Oh?” James asked coldly. M took a breath, squared his shoulders, and turned his attention to the agent fully.

“Yes, managed to wheedle the information out of me when he saw Q’s punch mark from before being pinned. He was suitably appalled by my actions.” M shook his head as if he still couldn’t get over his own surprise. “Christ, I thought he was going to bloody castrate me.” _Better that he had_ , James thought automatically.

There was silence for a moment, though M looked back and unflinchingly met Bond’s gaze, even if the regret rose in his sleepless looking eyes. “I understand there’s no compensation I can rightly offer the pair of you for the distress caused, and that Q’s current state relegated my actions as inappropriate… suspension should have probably been considered instead, but feel free to name your price should you think of anything. The heat of the moment caught me, and it shall not happen again.” It was hardly an organic apology, but M looked supremely awkward, and pain laced his eyes whenever he pulled an expression.

“In the mean time, as far as the government is concerned all responsibility from the incident will fall on me, rather than the team of Q branch technicians who were working under my direct orders and were all prepared to write sworn statements to that effect. The government views the affair as an entire cock up of planning…” M raised his eyebrows painfully and finally looked away, moving rather gingerly to sit down with a huff of exhaustion and pour himself a drink.

“…And I agree with them.” His eyes met James’ carefully blank ones over the rim. “No fallout from this incident shall land on Q. It has already been dealt with.”

There was no knowing how things had been ‘dealt’ with, but it was clear enough from M’s posture that he may well have spent time in the dungeons of the government in Q’s place.

It was immensely hard and entirely dissatisfying to derail his anger. Instead James swiped the drink out of M’s hands and tossed it back in a single gulp. M didn’t move to stop him, staring a little dully at the space where his glass had been for a moment before sighing and dropping his hand, rubbing an eyebrow.

“I came here to threaten you for laying hands on my mate.” M waved a hand that seemed to say ‘by all means do’, but there was just no energy in beating a man who had already rolled over, which was infuriating enough in itself really. Still, James stole the rest of the scotch under the baleful gaze of Mallory to make himself feel better.

“Not that it helps much, but I can assure you I did nothing that would have harmed Q or threatened his pregnancy. There’s video footage of what occurred in this office if you want to check-“ James slammed the glass down on the table enough to dent the rich wood.

“What makes you think I would want to watch anything as disgusting as you forcing my pregnant mate to bend and roll over?” His voice was a growl, and M’s head ducked in submission, but that didn’t pause James’ again rising fury. “I don’t care if your ‘best intentions’ were to give him a bubble bath. He was distressed, I wasn’t there, and neither of you were in a fit state. I’m grateful you spared him the interrogation chambers, but if you truly didn’t think he would defend me with everything he possesses and that I wouldn’t do the same, then you may well be the poorest excuse for an ‘M’ that this country has ever seen.”

The spat words had M flinching satisfyingly, and James was surprised that he could manage such venom in words when he usually explained himself in actions, but there was something dually pleasing and depressing about seeing Mallory so placid and defeated. James sighed roughly and took another drink.

“I’m… _proposing_ that you take a full time role training our new recruits, that Q drops some of his duties in the goal of weaning Q branch off him and allowing him more rest, and that…” M paused in his carefully bland monotone. “That we have eventualities put in place should danger befall either one of you again, given your dual importance to the nation. I will not expect you to choose above each other again, and though I shall endeavor not to let it, I do have the country to think of should anything occur… It would be easier to fire you both, if you two weren’t so bloody brilliant.” M spoke it as a curse rather than compliment, running a hand over his eyebrow and clearly in pain, James took some savage pleasure in that. The words also reminded him strikingly of his own M in a way that Mallory had never succeeded before. It was true though, if ‘M’ wasn’t the most ironically sentimental position in the entirety of MI6, they should have both been put on extended leave, were they not so integral.

M had taken the heat for this incident, seemed to be feeling genuine remorse… James was still a bit annoyed that he couldn’t personally beat the man into a submission, but he would happily shake hands with his omega right now.

“I wont forget this.” James warned. M looked up at him in all seriousness.

“Neither shall I.” The weight of those words spoke of M’s disappointment in himself. James nodded and turned to leave. There was still one person he had left to see before he accepted any of this.

 

-00Q00-

 

Tanner was lurking in his office, a strangely secluded little place. James stalked in without pre amble.

“Was the fallout really so bad?” He opened with, and his sharp voice grasped Tanner’s quiet attention.

“Yes. I don’t have a clue how good Q had to be to keep them from even knowing it was 6 that triggered the black out, but his branch were instrumental in convincing the government that M had been the one to authorize it, and that Q himself was kept out of the report… Still, I suspect there was some heavy leaning form someone important to protect him. There’s no way we could have overlooked his presence entirely and expected the powers that be not to notice.” James felt a surge of pride for Q’s ever-loyal branch, knew how much that would mean for the omega. He also had a feeling he knew just what influential person had guided the government to overlooking Q, but he wasn’t about to reveal Mycroft Holmes to Tanner.

“And the repercussions?” Tanner nodded and met James’ eyes.

“Severe. Not the least from his own omega, but after the calls were made he was taken for a long walk to Interrogation and Conditioning. Twenty-four hours. Q wouldn’t have survived with any health left to spare.” Tanner looked entirely regretful that he even had to make it a point, but James could concede that, all cock ups considered, M may well have attempted to make up for his mistakes and poor planning by taking the heat. At least the man was prepared to step up to that, and also did seem invested in protecting Q from it.

“You were there for the event?” James asked, and Tanner sat straighter.

“Yes, I bore witness, you know how it works.” James nodded briefly.

“And what did you make of it.” Tanner met James’ eyes.

“Permission to be honest without you attempting to break my neck?” The agent grinned in small amusement, and there was a long sigh.

“The choice to allow Q to continue such a high stress job when he announced his pregnancy, or risk leaving MI6 undefended in the case of his absence was not a decision taken lightly, and it hasn’t become any easier now.” Tanner looked a bit undecided for a moment. “Truth is, no one really knows how to handle it.

“…Given the situation, suspension would have been more fitting as a lesser punishment, though it would not have solved the issue that Q seems determined to maintain his workload no matter what his condition, and I don’t believe there wouldn’t be strongly maintained distrust between the two of them. Given Q’s situation, his reaction to what he heard was justified in terms of it being expected. Given M’s choice on how to proceed, however misguided and preventable by sending both of you on extended leave from day one, he handled Q without endangering him, though considering the stress of the situation and Q’s state, acting without the presence of an alpha to look after him was rash. However, I believe M intended to return to him before the government became involved. Given that this was a complete cock up start to finish… I think all three of you are lucky to still have your jobs.”

The tone in Tanner’s voice suggested that he wasn’t sure that they all _should_ still have their jobs, though it was impossible to tell who he felt that most strongly about.

“Given that everyone made it out of this alive, I think it best to focus on prevention rather than festering rage… Mostly, given that we’re all in the business of protection on a daily basis, I would have hoped that somewhere along the line this would have been prevented sooner, and I wish it had been.” Tanner’s plain speaking was calming, unfettered by government views. The thing James had wanted to check; that M had been acting to make up for his actions; was what he’d needed to hear.

“Thank you Tanner.” He turned to leave, wanting to get back home and feeling exhausted mentally as well as physically.

 

-00Q00-

 

Alec and Q were lying on the bed, ensconced once again in the ending of a nest. This time the agent had brought some over, which must have looked a pretty funny sight, if Q could find the ability to visualize it more than half-heartedly. He missed James.

“Are you okay?” Alec asked after a long silence, Q shrugged. The agent reached out and Q let the alpha roll his sleeve back to reveal the bandaged bite wound.

“It doesn’t hurt. And it probably isn’t as bad as what your thinking caused it. I just don’t deal with frustration well.” Q explained, monotonously, he didn’t particularly feel like delving into the deep realms of his childhood with 006. After all, there was no way to make anyone understand that his brothers left that home with just as many, if not more, problems than Q himself. At least he’d escaped. Sherlock was an addict incapable of satisfaction without something to solve and a severe disregard for personal safety. Mycroft had eating issues, control issues, was serially alone and had no genuine friends or relationships.

Really, Q thought he’d come out rather well… frustration biting and general lack of ability to remember to take care of himself aside. But no one would believe him about that.

“You’re thinking it again.” Q looked over, startled from his thoughts.

“What?” Alec looked at him with a deep understanding calm that was a little surprising.

“Listen Q, no one would be fighting this hard to let you keep your job if they thought you couldn't do it. And that includes everyone at MI6 from M down. Just, think about that instead, and try to go a bit easier on yourself.” Q blinked a little.

“You come out with the most surprising things.” Q commented, frowning a little. Alec grinned cheekily.

“Guess I’m just full of surprises.” Q hummed a little with a smile and turned back to staring at the ceiling, though he did let his arm rest on Alec’s stomach to continue their connection. His emotions were flayed, and they kept violently swinging from out of control to numb and exhausted. Q knew from experience that it would take a few days to completely bounce back, but he hated the interim.

One of Alec’s hands brushed into his hair and Q opened his eyes with a little start, unaware of closing them.

“Can I try something? I think it will help you relax.” Q was feeling too tired to put up much of a fight, besides, Alec had nested with him twice now, and it was… nice to have a companion in that.

“Alright.” Alec smiled and pulled Q around a little, who let himself be manipulated laxly. When the agent’s fingers sank into his hair and begun a slow, pressurized massage Q moaned and went limp in delight, feeling tension drain from his limbs.

“My parents used to do this for each other.” Alec commented by way of explanation. “I’ll make sure to teach James.” Q ignored the cheeky remark in favor of melting. By the time ten minutes had gone by, Q was nearly asleep and utterly relaxed. He didn’t fully register the door opening until he smelt James enter the bedroom.

“Alec, what have you done to him?” Q couldn’t open his eyes, but he did manage to raise his arms enough to grab vaguely in the direction of his mate’s amused voice with a demanding sound. James slid into the nest beside him as Alec withdrew a little, Q managed to curl into the clamp of his alpha’s arms whilst latching a hands into Alec’s hair and pulling him close enough to absently rub nonsensical designs onto the agent’s scalp.

He could sense James’ surprise vaguely as Alec groaned happily and relaxed under the pressure.

“What are you doing?” James asked, curiously, voice warm against the back of his neck and hands snaking to cradle Q’s stomach. A smile, the first peaceful one in days, caught Q’s face as James’ hands rubbed his stomach and Alec chuckled happily under the rhythmic twirl of his fingertips.

“No idea.” He breathed out. Alec patted both their legs.

“Don’t worry, it’s just an omega thing.” The way Alec said it, as if James was being introduced into some sort of exclusive club, was the singularly warmest way he’d ever heard the way ‘omega’ used, like it was a title that commanded respect and awe, Q’s whole body felt soothed by the simple turn of phrase.

“I’m slowly attempting to unlock your latent omega and parental instincts in the hope of extra guns at Christmas.” James’ laughter rumbled behind him as Q’s whole body heated and relaxed with a pleasant glow. Drifting off to sleep, he imagined holding a head much smaller than Alec’s and tracing the same techniques he was now. For the first time, he visualized their little Blasty, instead of some monster child creation.

“You’re not staying here till Christmas,” James retorted with mock-annoyance in the background, “You have your own damn apartment to fill with your hazard mongering.”

“Kill joy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mycroft keeps sneaking his way in, he's very good at that.
> 
> Anyway, please raise any issues you have, I'll try to be as helpful as possible, hope you enjoyed, and as ever thank you for reading and for your comments.


	15. H0: A little breathing room; H1: More than a little pick-me-up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slipping this up just before crashing for the night, saw a friend yesterday in ye olde London (yay!), hence lateness. Also managed a decent job application this week (even more yay!) And thanks to everyone who said good luck! If anything comes from it, you shall all know <3
> 
> Notes may be short, as I'm kinda falling asleep! ;D
> 
> But wanted to say thank you all for the amazing response throughout this story, I still can't quite believe it! But I'm very very happy to see you all enjoying this x3

Q, in light of recent events, had chosen to pace himself. He hadn’t gone back to work until Wednesday, when he was feeling much more like himself. On Monday afternoon James had suggested that Q get checked over by the doctor. Much as the omega didn’t want to leave the nest that he’d finally found comfort by ensconcing himself in, it was a good idea, and at least now that it wasn’t the weekend, he could book with Dr. Darcy instead of going to some unknown hospital.

He had been physically fine, thankfully, although their doctor had noted quite elevated stress levels and warned them on the risk of that. Q felt a little sick, and hadn’t complained once when James wrapped him up in far too many blankets at home and insisted on tending to his every need…

Well, he’d complained once, but that was only to get James to take more pain medication and sit down… And that was partly so Q could curl up to him whilst stroking the growing swell of his stomach.

Alec had found the growth chart and insisted on filling in Monday’s growth, Q felt indebted enough to the alpha to attempt to not be neurotic about the slightly less-than-straight line. Besides, Blasty had now breached 6.5 cm, which was something of a milestone, as was every centimeter. Alec had stared at Q’s stomach in wonder for a moment, causing him to blush a little but almost preen with pride.

Quizzing James on Tuesday about what had happened with M on Monday revealed that the man had been subjected to the government’s discipline himself. He felt a little guilty, but he wasn’t about to say that to James, who was still viewing the incident with only a quarter of the calm that Q portrayed at any given point in time.

Tuesday did, however, mark the start of his twelfth week of pregnancy, Blasty’s bone marrow beginning to develop red blood cells, a –finally- congratulatory conversation from a still shaken sounding Eve over the phone, the need to calculate Blasty’s new growth rate, the usual nausea… and an upsurge of texts from Sherlock.

_-You said a week. It’s been a week. Shall I just come over now? Maybe I will.-_

_-John wants to meet you. He seems morbidly curious. Be careful, he’s a good shot.-_

_-This is growing tiresome. Mycroft is growing tiresome. He keeps coming over to growl and scare Mrs. Hudson. I shall blame you.-_

_-If I don’t hear otherwise in the next twelve minutes I’ll turn up at MI6 on Friday.-_

Q hurriedly fielded off the last text with a mention of threats to reveal to John that Sherlock didn’t believe in gravity until he was fifteen if he didn’t wait.

Putting off organizing an actual time with his brother, Q had developed the habit of talking to Blasty. Firstly little comments about the weather or the nausea or something stupid on TV… but then James had caught on. They spent practically their entire time together nowadays with one of their hands on Q’s stomach and so communicating seemed like the next logical progression.

Or that was what Q argued anyway, when James caught him explaining how the toaster worked to thin air.

“You chose to talk to our pup about toasters?” James asked, amusement and disbelief in his voice at once, Q blushed a bit and attempted to scowl.

“I read that it helps with bonding and growth. And its never too young to start, it doesn’t matter what you say as long as you’re trying, Blasty can hardly understand the detail.” He defended. James pulled him close and kissed his neck.

“Shh, its perfect, love.”

Later that night, he had woken to some very awake mumbling and warm hands and breath ghosting over his belly.

“Really James? Guns? Bit inappropriate for the age range isn’t it?”

“What? You said Blasty can’t understand, just recognize the tone correct?” Q tried to get his sleepy mind to keep up with James’.

“Yes, I suppose.” He accepted, finally, blearily.

“So as long as I sound passionate and caring, who’s to say it should be a story about goats or the bible that is gun-safety?” Q flopped back with a sigh, too tired for these shenanigans in his mate’s mischievous voice, but a smile curled his lips nonetheless.

“Oh well, as long as there’s a responsible safety message involved.” James huffed a chuckle and pressed a kiss to his belly that seemed to be intended for him rather than Blasty, given how James’ other hand swept under the elastic of his pyjama bottoms just slightly. Q yawned and rolled over to curl around his mate’s head and shoulders sleepily. “Don’t forget to warn him about rusting.” Another chuckle had warm arms looping around him.

“Wouldn’t dream of it my dear.”

Perhaps the most endearing thing, was being welcomed back to work by his loyal, loyal branch. Cooper, his perhaps not-so-privately ranked no. 1 R, stood from behind his desk and presented his baffled boss with a folded t-shirt. At the silent nod of encouragement and the suppressed excitement and compassion that seemed to emanate from his work force, Q unfolded the material to reveal a white, large and long but not ridiculously so, top.

The front read his Q10 trademark, in large bold print. The back, when turned, read: _R &D DIVISION 2013. IN Q WE TRUST._

-00Q00-

 

Eve sent a memo to meet for lunch, now that they’d both returned to the call of duty. Q knew James was planning on a rather cruel and punishing lesson of ‘necessary paranoia’ for the new recruits, and so felt quite glad that there was something else to stop him working through lunch.

The omega had been padding around all morning in somewhat of a happy daze, proudly wearing his new top over more sensible work clothes in a pleasing flaunt to appropriate work-attire. Q blamed the hormones, really, but the truth was he had come over rather giddy and fidgety in a pleasantly flushed way. True, he was a little embarrassed at being presented something that he was expected to wear that was so emblazoned personal pride… But gratitude at the thought of his branch and their clear support throughout not only the last week of hell, but his entire stint as quartermaster, adequately summed up in two sentences, was almost overwhelmingly loyal and sustaining. Q was entirely charmed, had stuttered through the most flapped and stumbling thank you speech of his life, blushed thoroughly, and escaped to his office.

Donning the top had felt like the least he could do, and seeing his branches’ delighted faces was more than enough to steady his mind and nerves.

With a swift but stoically honest spree of love for them all, he had ordered in copious amounts of snacks and drinks, re-constructed the budget requirements of the month to more or less allow for everyone to have a crack at a new team project they’d been supportive of, and allowed them to run the visualizer on the giant screens in the main operations room until the whole branch seemed to be working under the Demon Headmaster.

After what they’d done for him, so clearly in _support_ of him and his capabilities, Q was more than convinced they were allowed their fun.

He hummed happily as he worked beneath the giant visualizer, and when the time came merrily trotted off to lunch whilst his wonderful, wonderful branch pawed through their new selections of treats.

It was entirely the pick-me-up Q hadn’t known he’d needed, and for the first time since becoming pregnant felt entirely certain of his secured place in the mainframe of MI6.

Eve stood up the moment she saw him, grin on her face and hurrying him over with beckoning waves. Q smiled a little, fondly, and went to her. His grin became a bit sheepish when the female alpha cooed a purr at the sight of his stomach, bump only just slightly visible.

“Let me see it you gorgeous boy.” Eve insisted with a wide, excited smile as he came within grabbing range. Thankful for the deserted corner of the cafeteria she had selected, Q batted off her probing hands and slid his tops up. She smirked at him with a raised eyebrow at his Q10 shirt before tracking her gaze downwards.

“Building up a memorabilia collection, are we?”

“Not my idea.” She chuckled, and warm, long fingers traced over his stomach with care.

“How many weeks?” Her voice was a tad wistful, and Q wondered for the first time why she hadn’t bagged a mate given her considerable charms. But then, he hadn’t thought he’d wanted one either until James.

“Twelve,” Eve looked up at him, mischievous excitement in her eyes, and Q swiftly held up his hands and shook his head. “If you say a word about quarters or trimesters-“

“Relax pet.” Eve straightened and pecked him on the cheek. “You’re safe with me.” Q offered a huffed, relaxed smile and followed her to take a seat, where she’d taken the liberty of filling a tray for him.

Q only had to run off to the bathroom once.

 

-00Q00-

 

Despite the shit that had hit the fan, James thought that Q was looking better than he had in weeks. The alpha had spent the day having far too much fun with Alec, literally jumping out at the new double oh recruits from behind whatever they could and scaring the daylights out of the less promising applicants. There were two sets of five potentials, and James had his eye on a couple of them. Next week he was planning to test their sweeping abilities for bugs, and was enlisting his mate’s help with the logistics of it.

Q had all kinds of suggestions, willing to donate and set up the equipment for a spot of fun and a change of scenery.

“There are a few new prototypes I could test out…” He mused, looking beyond adorable donned in his branches’ t-shirt. The sight warmed James’ heart, and showed just how nervous Q had been feeling about his position.

Some guilt at not being able to help his mate more concretely in that surfaced and was swiftly squashed down. Q was here with him, and clearly very happy, sitting sideways on the sofa with his legs thrown carelessly across his alpha’s lap, pregnancy becoming more obvious and deliciously so when accented oh so very slightly by the large, long shirt that James couldn’t wait to see him swell into.

James couldn’t keep from smiling, one arm resting comfortably on Q’s shins and the other on his mate’s thighs, notebook that the younger man despaired of settled on sharp knees. Impulsively he leaned over and kissed Q, who smiled into it, looking a little quizzical yet thoroughly pleased. The agent squeezed his right shin and went back to jotting ideas. They were distracted by a familiar noise that sounded as if Q had ripped it from a suspense movie; overly dramatic.

Q groaned and leaned the considerable distance to the coffee table to grapple for his phone through all the tea mugs. James instinctually grabbed his waist at the sides, careful of the precious swelling in the center, and tried to stabilize Q as his rather erratic omega nearly toppled half-way off the sofa in his quest.

After the horror James had experienced with the M incident, and events leading up to it, he had done a little pregnancy-research of his own. Up until recently he had been entirely happy with Q’s studying on the topic, and the information Dr Darcy had given them, but James hadn’t survived in his profession for this long by trusting that ‘need to know’ information was the same as being ‘well informed’. He didn’t think Q was keeping things from him, just that the omega wasn’t always very ‘aware’ in terms of street smarts and other life skills essential for being an agent…

If spray paint, bicycles, plums, bumps, drawing pins or anything encounter-able in normal life was a risk to Q and their pup, James wanted to know, be prepared, and be defended for it.

He had already considered rounding off all the edges of their furniture, but knew he couldn’t do it without Q noticing. So instead he tried to just herd Q away from such dangerous, sharp and bruising things, and generally prevented the somewhat distractible and dreamy omega from falling over or off things.

It was a full time job, but to be honest, James would have done the same even before discovering both the sensible warnings and horror stories that he had found about pregnancy dangers.

Plus, it gave him good practice for when he had another hapless life running around under their feet. James shifted a bit in anticipation as he helped ease Q back into position once the phone was retrieved. He glanced at the message, easily reading it upside-down.

“Saturday is my final offer. Concede or Mycroft will know about fire of 89?” James asked, frowning heavily as he recited the message.

“That bastard!” Q swore in a hiss, glaring at the phone, affronted. “He swore he wouldn’t tell!” James covered Q’s furious fingers as he finished hashing out a reply that referred to a similar threat of retribution; involving informing the eldest Holmes about the ‘pagan ritual and the tramp’. The omega looked up in surprise as the message sent.

“Q. Explain.” Q huffed, calming slightly.

“We had some various escapades.”

“I gathered.” Q swiped the sweep of errant fringe from in front of his eyes and James added a curious smirk to his question. “The fire of 89?” Q hummed, eyes flickering in debate for a moment before shrugging and returning his gaze to the new message in the phone, one that referred to something about letting Mycroft know ‘where the finale for the experimental slug-race took place.’ Q went slightly green and hashed out a return of ‘Mycroft’s food poisoning in relation to your canal floater DB’.

“Q?”

“I was rather experimental and Sherlock was already trying to solve cases, the dual deception we needed was something of a bonding point.” For some reason, the image of a scrappy young Q conducting deceitful science under the law-abiding nose of his eldest brother was thoroughly endearing. “We had a minor house fire when I attempted to increase the productivity of the electric blankets one year. Needless to say, Mycroft wasn’t best pleased but never suspected I’d been responsible, Sherlock helped cover up.”

“And the fact that you date your house fires?” Q chuckled at James and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“My sweet, innocent double oh seven. I wouldn’t let something as inconsequential as a little house fire get in the way of scientific progress.” James growled playfully and tipped them over to pin Q with a small yelp of surprise, half entertained and half remembering Alec’s words when Q playfully bit his shoulder in retribution of James snuffling all over his hair and ruffling it out of place. He couldn’t help wondering that if maybe Sherlock had spent less time causing trouble or covering up Q’s, and more time fulfilling his omega’s needs of cuddling and play that they wouldn’t have a strained relationship…

But then, Q wouldn’t necessarily be Q either…

It was too complicated to contemplate, and James was only too happy to fulfill any needs Q might have.

“And the pagan tramp?” Q snickered and curled all his limbs around James’ body like a limpet, pulling them impossibly close.

“Sherlock is brilliant, but he is somewhat deranged, only as much as the rest of us, Mycroft and me, but in a much more obvious way. He found a ‘case’, I think he was fourteen at the time, a group of gypsies nearby were being stolen from. They thought it was outside interference, but there was one ancient-arts practitioner who was always absent at the time of the thefts. Alibi was conducting a ritual, one that filled the whole camp with smoke.” Q laughed, bright and alight with remembered mischief, and James couldn’t help the grin of shared entertainment that pulled his lips.

“So to prove whether this man had enough time during the smoke to rob his fellows, Sherlock found and paid off this drunken tramp from the local village to go through the motions of burgling our house whilst I helped him re-enact and document the ritual…” Q paused to breathe through his laughing words. “Turned out the smoke was hallucinogenic, we both got high as a kite and the house was ransacked.” Q sighed out in bliss at the memory. “Still, solved the case.”

The world had turned upside down, not in a bad way just… unconsidered. This was the first time that he’d heard Q speak truly positively of his childhood. Escapades, solidarity, brotherhood, that was what he had assumed having siblings would involve for Q…

He seemed to be fonder of Sherlock than Mycroft, yet it was Mycroft who he had talked to on the phone so sweetly when they lay in bed that night, calm and content to listen to the man. So many fond things, hidden amongst the tension with which Q seemed to regard his youth… So just how did it become so twisted?

_“You turned your own brother to drugs!”_

_“You’ll believe anything he tells you wont you Aster. You believed him when he told you an omega’s position was to submit-“_

_“If I hadn’t left, you’d never have let me leave.”_

_“Your brother! You tore your own brother apart, you both did! Don’t you dare say that like it should mean something after everything you two did to each other!”_

_“Our parents were old fashioned. Which didn’t help. They were hardly there, and when they were we were always on best behaviour.”_

_“They ripped each other apart in every conversation they could and I was running away long before I ever did it for real…”_

James sighed as Q, blissfully unaware of his mate’s circular thought patterns, chatted happily away about staging a slug race after he had experimented with the beasts’ food to increase potential, the final of which had been hosted on Mycroft’s desk and featured an obstacle course and a photo finish. The younger man’s fingers scratched and stroked contentedly through his alpha’s hair.

“-So Sherly needed to test how long the body had been in the water for, used a pig cadaver in similar conditions in the fridge, contaminated Mycroft’s food by accident and gave him food poisoning… wasn’t one of our proudest moments, really, I moved away from biology completely after that, unless it involved chemistry… James?” He sighed into Q’s shoulder, trying to articulate what was spinning through his mind.

“You, you’re family… don’t take this the wrong way but-“

“Complicated doesn’t begin to cover it?” Q offered, voice strangely compassionate.

“Yeah.” James breathed out, and propped himself up enough with one elbow on the sofa arm behind Q to look him in the eyes. “Every time I learn something different about them, about you with them, it changes my perspective but never gives me a satisfying answer.” Q breathed out a bit and nodded.

“I know,” he huffed and raised his eyebrows with deep understanding, “trust me I know. And I think you’re wonderful for dealing with it as well as you have… to be frank, I half expected you to do something drastic.” James grumbled a little and nosed Q’s neck.

“I would never be rash around you.” Q laughed, softly.

“Well, true, not for those reasons anyway. If I can suggest, don’t try to work us out too much, in fact-“ He grabbed for the phone and poised to type, arms sliding around James’ back. “You could complete the puzzle this Saturday if you liked?”

“Sherlock?”

“Yes, and John Watson I think too, unofficial mate.” Q paused and met his eyes.

“What do you say?” James allowed a moment to think, but there was really nothing he had against it, sooner the better for better or worse. He brought their foreheads together with a slow thunk, looking deep into Q’s changeable green eyes.

“Whenever you’re ready, I’ll be there.” Q kissed him and typed away.

“Don’t worry, I think it will all make a lot more sense to you once you meet Sherlock, he’s impossible to aptly describe.”

Fate sealed, James curled back around Q, rubbed one hand onto his filled belly, and silently hoped that years down the line their pup wasn’t struggling to have a life connected to his family.

 

-00Q00-

 

The phone beeped for one final time, Sherlock’s mouth twisting into his satisfied smile of a game won.

“What is it?” John asked, a trifle nervous; Sherlock had been alternatively cursing and laughing at his phone for the last few texts in a way no one had seen since the days of Moriarty.

“My brother, finally given in.” John sat up to attention as Mrs. Hudson finished putting away the dishes ‘for the last time dear, I’m not your house keeper’.

“Oh, he’s going to meet you?” Curiosity licked at the doctor’s tone, Sherlock grinning.

“Yes. Both of us, if you want.” John pulled a moderately pleased consideration, nodding with a downturn of lips.

“And his mate?”

“Yes, the lovely James Bond.” Another nod.

“Where are we going then?” Sherlock shrugged.

“He doesn’t want me in his flat again, not good with personal, likes to separate things.” John’s curiosity had been peaked since hearing about this mysterious brother for the first time; one neither older brother had mentioned before.

Sherlock’s errant younger brother had sprung from seemingly nowhere, that was how it would appear to anyone else, the one big void hiding amidst all the little pains and conflicts.

Mycroft had been more smug than usual about meeting said brother, and Sherlock had swiftly stepped up his game.

The sudden passion was enough to spark John and even Mrs. Hudson’s intrigue.

There was no denying how keenly everyone in the room wanted to meet the high-flyer in MI6 with the SIS agent mate.

“Well, shall we have him over here then? Could be seen as an offering.”

“Or a threat.” Sherlock’s words were completely ignored by Mrs. Hudson.

“Oh yes, I could make a nice spread.” She cooed in agreement.

“Mmm, make a nice change, not just being dragged off to some warehouse in a suspicious car, a proper sit-down meeting.”

“It is nice to have family of yours that wants a little get together, dear.” Sherlock sighed, not moving from his folded-leg position.

“Social formalities.” He grumbled. John huffed and Mrs. Hudson crossed her arms. There was a quick, annoyed and disbelieving look around the room.

“Oh fine, fine!” A smile fixed on the tall beta’s face. “Should be charming, I’ll let Aster know-“

“Uh, Aster?” John started with a little amused cough, smirking, Sherlock merely threw the other beta an imperious look.

“Oh come on, it’s hardly any worse than ‘Mycroft’.”

“…Fair point.”

 

-00Q00-

 

Saturday loomed with the dual overhang of tension, and relief at the visible end of said tension. Q was sure, for both he and James, that the first meeting would be the one to dread most. It hadn’t helped that Q had had a slight upswing in pup sickness for the last two days, striking again in the night. James had been lovely, and helped talk him through it, but Q was so sick of the nausea by now that he thought he could throttle something.

Then there was the dizziness too. Apparently this was entirely normal and to do with blood vessels and blood sugar, but it still caused significant frustration.

Whilst waiting for James to finish in the bathroom before they left for the lunchtime meeting in 221 Baker Street, Q came over all dizzy moving to look at Blasty’s chart.

The swamping wave of light-headedness left him weak-legged and stumbling back to the sofa where he collapsed gently. Remembering techniques from facing similar problems after sleepless coding sessions, Q bent double till his head was between his knees, breathed slowly and waited for the feeling to pass.

“You alright?” James murmured, hand coming to stroke his back as the man slid next to Q. He nodded, reaching out a hand to grip his mate’s knee. The dizziness faded fairly swiftly, and he sat up slowly, glad when nothing started to spin.

“I’m fine, dizziness is common around this time.” James nodded, though his eyes never left Q’s, trained to detect deceit in any sense. The omega smiled and patted James’ knee before standing slowly, finding himself fine this time.

“Come on, a few hours, and we can get back here and fill in today’s slot.” Really, the joy they had both started to take from updating their pup’s growth was surprising, but it was a pleasant and calming little routine that they had both come to love. Every day felt like another huge little achievement at the moment. The only problem was that growth wasn’t only in one direction anymore, which made it harder to track. Q had had to do some serious re-calculations on Tuesday, discovering that average growth per week for the next few weeks, length-wise, was about 1.5 cm, which was about 2 millimeters per day.

As of last night, Blasty had taken 7.5, which was quite an impressive length. Q made things smaller than that by hand for his agents. It was a length clearly visible to the naked eye, and maybe even with Q’s appalling vision.

Q rubbed his belly happily, caught James watching him with a ridiculously charmingly amused and fond smile, and huffed through one of his own.

“Come on.” James swept him into a kiss that left him dizzy in all the right ways, and murmured into his ear.

“If you want to get out, at any point, just say ‘beached whale’, and we’ll disappear.” Q chuckled, absurdly pleased with the idea of having their own secret code to keep sane.

“And if _you_ want to get out say ‘moon cow’ and we’ll be gone.” James pulled back to grin at him, and Q managed to fight down his nerves at the thought of meeting his most erratic sibling… introducing the man to his mate… announcing point-blank that he was pregnant.

“You sure we can’t drive?” James complained playfully.

“Nowhere to park, and I’d rather not have to shoot someone for scratching the paintwork.”

“Sounds charming.” Q grimaced as James turned and got the door open, wrapping one arm around Q as they moved out.

“If Sherlock’s anything like I remember to live with, you just wait until we see the fridge.” James turned to look at Q quizzically as they descended the stairs.

“Again, why are we meeting them there?”

“Sherlock said that John seemed to think it would be an offering, and would be ‘grateful’ if we could not upset the apple cart of his mind.”

“…Ah.”

“Quite. Completely besotted.”

“I meant insane.”

“Oh, well yes that too, but it somewhat goes without saying…” Q glanced over at James’ frown of thought at the conversation. “Don’t worry, you’ll understand soon.”

James simply pulled him closer in way of saying ‘that’s what worries me’. Q found it harder to squash down the nerves this time, but was at least somewhat pacified by the knowledge that John Watson would be there too, and therefore James would have someone ‘normal’ to talk to.

Q could deal with Sherlock. Hopefully. At least his brother had met James’ scent, and probably read all there was to know about him from their flat, and they had seen each other not so many years ago…

That had to count for something, right?

In lieu of his pregnancy though, who could really tell?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NEXT CHAPTER WILL BE THE ONE!!!!  
> Ahem, yes! Snuck a little Sherlock in here, purposefully left the POV ambiguous as I don't plan to write form the view of anyone other than 00Q very much.  
> Anyway hope you liked! Next chapter comes with the promise of their meeting (I'm excited! xD its taken so long!)
> 
> Thank you all for your wonderful time spent in comments, You're all very inspirational for my writing n_n  
> Hope you enjoy and thanks for reading!
> 
> P.S. Meant to do notes here on some of the info for pairings and the like in this particular A/B/O verse, but given time constraints today I will either do it later or next chapter :3 adios for now mi amigos!


	16. H0: A walk in the park; H1: Once more into the breach

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This turned into a monster. I REGRET NOTHING!!! *coughs* Feel free to read it in halts ':D
> 
>  **WARNING:** mentions of drug use, suggestions of mental illness, and oh dear lord the angst.
> 
> Otherwise, enjoy n_n

“Well, here we are.” Q murmured, the pair of them looking up at 221 Baker Street.

“Flat b?” Inquired Bond, knuckles rising to rap on the door.

“Yes, but he said just knock and the land lady will show us up.” Q put his phone away after checking it yet again, and James knocked on the door smartly.

“Should have an alarm system.”

“Sherlock’s particular.” Q informed over the sound of footsteps and what could be excited cooing? “Besides, anyone would be mad to try and rob it.” He rambled, pushing the thick frames of his glasses up. James looked over, and casually wound an arm around his waist, squeezing gently as Q gripped the alpha’s thigh briefly to close the connection circuit.

The clack of a latch and the door opened to an aging but not aged woman. Her face lit into a delighted form of middle-class-British excitement and her hands fussed for only a moment with another coo. Out of the corner of his eye, Q could see James’ patented charming smile already working its magic; judging by the light flush on the older omega’s cheery face.

Q’s smile felt more like trying to work a kink out of right-angle melded steel with a pancake and failing… His lips twitched a little in nerves…

Never been so good with other omegas and overbearingly interested older women. As a ‘cute’ child omega there had been -and still was- a certain type to enjoy fawning over him. He did so hate fuss and fawning, unless it was from James or somebody close.

Still, he decided to give her the benefit of the doubt.

“You must be Mrs. Hudson?”

“Yes dear that’s quite right, oh bless look at you, such a little Sherlock!” She reached out and Q had to not flinch when she briefly brushed his fringe and nudged his glasses. Overly familiar, but she did smell supremely excited, and like Sherlock. An itch gripped his skin at the scent, a kind of pang of longing to see his brother again. It was quite surprising, really.

James was silently laughing, Q could feel it. Mrs. Hudson sighed wistfully, “If only he had your hair.” With a small tut she moved back and glanced entirely too appreciatively up and down James. “And look at you!”

“Mrs. Hudson! Let them upstairs!” Called a voice, not Sherlock’s, from above. Must be John Watson, then. Q found himself starting to chuckle along with James, meeting his mate’s eyes was nearly the death of him. Covering his mouth, he followed the fussing beckoning of the older omega, taking his alpha’s hand as he pulled the agent behind him.

James hadn’t quite switched off, not that Q could blame him, after the disaster that had been their first meeting with Mycroft. As they ascended winding stairs, walls plastered with dated and overly elaborate wallpaper in an attempt to enrich the surroundings, he could feel the subtle shifts in attention and muscles that showed his mate taking note of everything.

It had taken a good half-year for James to relax in Q’s flat, even now always constantly aware within their own home, and he didn’t expect the man to feel at ease in such a new environment. To be honest it was more than a little bit of a comfort. Q was observant, true, but he noticed wires out of place, James noticed everything.

In that way, he was similar to Q’s older brothers, yet infinitely less annoying.

“Here we are dears.” Q’s heart thudded in a mixture of nerves and excitement, Mrs. Hudson moved over a threshold and held open the door for them. Q saw a shorter, blond beta, slightly lined, held himself like a soldier, kind eyes, warm smile… And then Sherlock, standing, eyes pierced on Q. The omega felt almost pinned in place for a moment yet magnetized as well.

“Aster,” Q felt himself trip forwards a little, drawn in to the _kin kin kin_ scent and the sight of the brother he’d been entirely out of contact with for a year, since he’d turned up out of the blue… He looked, happy… for Sherlock at least. A little smile licked at his lips.

“Hello,” he breathed out, sounding a bit stupid and wishing his emotional brain would be more intellectually engaged. But, all he wanted to do was- Sherlock strode up to him swiftly and with a little noise Q dropped James’ hand and grabbed slowly for his brother, pulling the stoic figure in and twining arms around the taller man’s neck. Sherlock was a little stiff, as always, but easily gave in and slowly wrapped his arms around Q, pulling him in tight in a possessive protection that the omega had almost entirely forgotten and _missed_ viscerally.

Mycroft demanded physical contact when he wanted and was a constant presence whenever Q was sick or had a heat and needed more connection. Certainly his oldest brother had never _denied_ Q any physical attention… But he was too much older and Q’s formative years had had their father for the leader role and mummy for maternal needs, and Mycroft had been a bit busy being pretentious and scary, there for Q more in intellect and presence than touch.

It was Sherlock that would occasionally grab his hand and drag him off somewhere to some mystery, push him towards something he was reluctant or stubborn about, tug him close enough to be possessive, ignoring whatever Q had been trying to do at the time… Simple contact that helped develop deeper emotions in Q than distant affection ever could.

He was an omega, and as long as he trusted someone, Q loved to be touched… he just didn’t trust many people. Certainly James’ tactile nature was always one of Q’s very favorite things, had worked magic on his self-touch-starved way of life back from their handshake right at the beginning, the brush of fingers as he handed over a radio.

Being wrapped in Sherlock’s familiar scent and embrace was so momentarily overwhelming with his already trippy hormones that Q didn’t notice he’d zoned out for a couple of seconds.

Around the room James’ and John Watson’s incredulity and shock was nearly tangible, and Q became aware of the silly little smile that was on his face. Sherlock’s arms tightened around Q and he nudged the younger’s cheek into a nuzzle; brusque and demanding. Q happily went with the motion and nuzzled back, ridiculous happy-contact hormones nearly smothering him with endorphins at positive-kin contact after being worried about it… Q was sure he’d be cursing himself later, but for now couldn’t help picturing Alec’s happy face when the omega agreed that they could nest together. Sometimes, he thought, being an omega wasn’t so bad.

Until Sherlock abruptly stiffened, hands moving to tighten on Q’s waist.

“Pregnant.” Q startled out of his happy-place with a douse of cold water.

“W-what?” He stammered, pulling away only to find himself spun around and standing behind Sherlock who had moved in front assertively and risen to his not-inadequate height in order to stare down _James Bond_.

“You stupid _brainless_ ape!” Watson stammered ‘Sherlock’ from the background as James raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed but slightly intrigued by the outburst. Q took in a breath, mind cartwheeling with how to halt the on-coming tirade against his mate, himself, the world and probably the universe that Sherlock had ‘deleted’ from his mind.

“You got my innocent little brother pregnant!” Q huffed and cleared his throat with slightly haughty amusement, catching James’ eye, judging by the returned eye contact that his alpha had understood that Q didn’t see any of this as a genuine threat, merely dramatics.

“Hardly innocent-“

“You utter pillock!” Sherlock started forwards and Q’s mind short-circuited into: attack-stupid-bad-no before he was lunging forwards automatically.

“Sherlock no!” Q grabbed his brother and the next moment in a flurry of disorientating movement found himself pushed back and off-balance with his arm stinging in a Chinese-burn kind of way. Growling from Bond and shouting from Watson was in the room and Q stumbled on buckling knees, dizzy, falling backwards.

In a blur of suit and blue eyes James sent Sherlock to the ground with a grunt, John pulled a gun that glinted in the light, Mrs. Hudson panicked.

The omega’s eyes fuzzed out and James caught him just as his legs failed utterly, grabbing him close and easing him to the ground. Q clung on dizzily, shaking a little and panting at the light-headed delirium that had gripped him.

“Don’t kill my brother, please don’t kill my brother, I know he’s an arse but we share blood.” He panted out, head still lolling a little, desperately hoping that James wouldn’t react violently enough to maim Sherlock for disentangling Q’s hold on him in such a thorough way. John breathed a sigh in the background and put away his gun, clearly eased by Q’s half-joking words.

“I’m not going to kill your brother.” James assured, voice deliberately calm. “As long as he stays away from you.” Q coughed out a dizzy laugh as Sherlock grunted in the background and sat up stiffly.

Watson was calmed by their interaction, and stomped forwards enough to round on Sherlock impatiently.

“Christ, he’s pregnant Sherlock! Do you think you could lay off the amateur dramatics?”

“They’re never amateur-“ Watson huffed and turned to walk over to them, Q blinking up and James’ grip tightening.

“Can I see-” The alpha growled in warning that reverberated through Q’s very bones, Watson seemed to take it to heart too, raising his hands in peace. “-listen, its okay, I’m a doctor. I just want to look.

Ice-shadow eyes met Q’s for a glance, Q squeezed James’ arms in reassurance, hoping somewhat that today could be salvaged from becoming a complete failure.

“Its okay.” He assured with a breath. James moved back a bit, Sherlock standing and watching from behind with Mrs. Hudson flapping about him. The agent stayed by his quartermaster’s side, supporting and down right exuding warning to the room at large like a huge crouched tiger ready to pounce. Watson moved closer, knelt beside Q and appraised him carefully. “I’m fine, I’m fine just dizzy.” Q waved his hand vaguely in dismissal of his near collapse, hoping it might make up for his slightly breathless voice.

“I know,” assured the doctor, kindly and calm, “but you’ve just had a startle so try and take it easy.” A hand pressed to Q’s chest and shoulder, guiding him into lying back. He huffed, James and Mrs. Hudson hovering close whilst Sherlock lingered a bit further back, watching with razor-sharp attention. Q let himself be manhandled down and felt his mind blank out again temporarily till the next thing he knew his back was on the floor.

“Someone get him something to drink please.” Mrs. Hudson leapt into action.

“Tea! I’ll get tea-“

“No tea!” Q groaned in protest, waving his arms as his stomach roiled at the very idea. Sherlock straightened and lurched forwards towards his omega brother, somehow making it past James to paw at Q.

“My God Watson he’s dying! Quick help-“

“I’m not dying!” Q batted at him.

“But that’s the sign!” James pushed Sherlock away a tad rougher than was strictly necessary, the tall beta remaining undeterred and bouncing right back. It was Watson who pressed a hand into Sherlock’s chest this time to stop him, murmuring ‘give him some air’ that clearly went unheeded. Q sighed and fought slightly more upright, leaning on his elbows and thinking all this drama and fuss was quite unnecessary.

“Tea makes me nauseous.” He looked around the stunned British faces other than James’ slightly smirking one. “Pup sickness.” He confirmed, and Mrs. Hudson ‘ooo’d in sympathy as John nodded. Sherlock turned to Bond with wide eyes, and Q groaned, remembering why he had tried to run away from all this manic energy at home.

“You monster, look at what you did to him!”

“ _Sherlock_ , next nicotine patches in ten minutes, don’t make me hide them.” Q and James watched the silent standoff that followed, Watson perfectly calm in the face of Sherlock’s dramatic frustration. The alpha moved closer and turned to murmur in Q’s shocked ear.

“Want me to scruff him for you?” Q burst into a weak fit of laughter that caught Sherlock’s attention and turned his face into James’ shoulder.

“Give it ten minutes.” He muttered back, smile in his voice. Mrs. Hudson interrupted the moment by pushing through and dislodging just about everyone.

“Here you are dear, sorry love, water and hot towels.” Q’s eyes went wide as John thanked the elderly omega and pressed the younger’s shock-pliant body into a ‘calming position’. Not dissimilar to recovery and Q flushed a bit.

“This really isn’t-“

“Shh, just give yourself some time to relax, trust me you’ll feel better.” Watson soothed, James looked torn between curiosity and amusement, but was clearly happy with any plan that forced Q to take it easy. Q frowned and attempted to sit and force his way out of the embarrassing and unnecessary care that was being ladled upon him… But then the doctor put one of the hot, damp towels on his forehead and slid his tops up enough to place the second over his belly before Q could properly react to being exposed. He took a breath in to protest, and melted neatly to the floor.

“Oooh, oh but that’s lovely,” The heat was deeply relaxing and something about the _smell_! He pawed without much coordination for James. “Whassat smell?” Mrs. Hudson piped up happily.

“Calming essences dear, come from this plant…oh what’s it called-“

“Omliquillitas.” Sherlock supplied.

“That’s right, just a few drops in hot water to a towel and it works a treat.” Q laughed a little, giddily, and not quite able to stop.

“James, James it’s a _happy_ flower.”

“Shh love,” James hushed, voice amused and soothing. The whole effect was utterly ridiculous, but Q had next to no experience with any of these natural remedies and found himself being dragged down into his own deep-deep pool of calm. He knew of plants effects on senses and nature, he even experimented with them in the labs for use in the bio-weapons, tranquilizers and other debilitating devices, but any work done with omega ones was performed by betas. If Q had to oversee any such experiments he was fully kitted out in hazard gear. It was hopelessly effective.

 

-00Q00-

 

“Oh no, ooh noo I don’t want to fall asleep.” James watched Q struggle against the potent relaxants and his susceptible condition, finding his mate’s slight delirium both endearing and amusing. Besides, as far as he was concerned, Q was _finally_ being treated with the care he deserved. It had been a nightmarish flash to see his omega thrown off balance with the M incident so close in his mind, and it had taken considerable practice to recognize the move as non-harmful and only disorientating and stop himself from snapping the middle Holmes’ neck.

Q grabbed for him a little, and James prepared to either sooth him or help him sit up depending on whether Q was simply being stubborn and truly needed a rest, or if he was upset about being forced into relaxing. Q’s scent had become slightly unstable since being dislodged from his brother and was only now starting to recover, and James was loath to stop the recovery if his omega truly did feel vulnerable… He didn’t think Q even noticed he was anything other than dizzy, but the pregnancy made it so horribly easy to tip him into sensitivity, and the lingering effects of Mallory’s discipline were still taking their toll.

Before he had to choose however, Sherlock brushed past both him and the other beta, and with almost brusque gentleness pulled Q back into a comfortable position and settled by his head.

“There now, its alright Star, you’re alright, fine now.” The beta’s hand had found Q’s head and was performing a massage similar to the one James had walked in on Alec administering, yet different and un-mimic-able. Q made some instinctual, demanding yet soft noise and relinquished his hold on James to curl into his brother, dazing off in the warm room until all the tension had melted from his frame.

James was astounded, as were Watson and Mrs. Hudson by the sound of things. It was so very…different to how Mycroft had interacted with Q. The contact was still demanding and dominant, but much more natural, more like James had expected of siblings. Of course they were closer in age which could explain that, and their similarities were striking, Q seemed just as easily turned from one emotion to the other with Sherlock as his oldest brother; flappable in a way he simply wasn’t at MI6…

“What is that?” He asked instead, not entirely trusting of this strange brother he couldn’t get a read on other than ‘unstable’.

“When he was young I conditioned him to relax to the point of sleep with specific massages combined with nap times.” James may have frozen for a moment whilst he took that on board. With those few words, the whole situation made a lot more sense.

In Sherlock Holmes’ mind Q was his property. And whilst they were children, James imagined that Q had considered that as fine, because it gave him the interaction he craved… But it clearly hadn’t stopped since.

“Only you.” The doctor beta shook his head, clearly beyond being surprised. Mrs. Hudson fussed about and tidied some things, setting what looked like a hastily cleared table for lunch. James felt torn, confused.

He could see Q’s obvious affection, and knew he needed this time to re-connect to his brother, but a large part of the agent wanted to tug his mate free and save him from that touch… from a brother who had clearly seen no problem in _conditioning_ his younger sibling in such a way. He recalled Mycroft’s less than savory words about Sherlock being the one to also condition Q into believing it was an omega’s place to submit…

It was hard to connect all the elements when what he read in front of him was obviously brotherly love and concern. Twisted, yes, and most obviously stunted or at least strained by a mind that couldn’t function on the same social level as others, but he didn’t detect _danger_ exactly from the beta, at least not towards Q. More possible inconsideration…

The whole thing was a snake pit. So James took his cues from Q, who he could read like a book. Q seemed content and calm to dose under his brother’s attention. James was happy for Q to get rest wherever he could whenever he needed it and his mate’s scent was starting to become quite wholesome and soothing in its own right. Sherlock didn’t pose a threat that James couldn’t deal with. He clearly wouldn’t hurt Q outright, and James could easily stop him, had once already, which had been a little too satisfying to be honest, and James almost missed the opportunity to scruff the entire set of Q’s family.

If Sherlock Holmes wanted to drive James Bond away, or even fluster him, he’d have to try a hell of a lot harder than he had so far, and leave Q out of it for his own safety.

James wouldn’t hold back a second time, regardless of whether military-trained attack-doctor Watson pulled out his gun again.

Icy eyes kept watch of the brothers like a hawk, body deceptively relaxed. Watson seemed to somehow read the danger of his pose and took the moment to hold out his hand.

“John Watson, pleasure to meet you.”

“James Bond, likewise.” James accepted the firm, solid shake, and felt a comrade in the doctor’s slightly put-upon smile. “Sorry about him, he’s…”

“Unique?” James guessed, trying hard to keep his words on the pleasant side of civil.

“Quite.” Sherlock glowered at them, still stroking Q’s hair, and James half wanted to rip his hands away for no good reason, maybe just to get a rise so he could punch him.

It occurred to him that he was the only alpha in the room for the first time in a very long time, at least when he wasn’t at home with Q. He remembered what Q had alluded to about Mycroft’s behaviour towards Sherlock and the impression given of alphas. Although the middle brother would probably never have approved of any mate Q took, it fell to James to not make the situation worse.

He wanted Q to be comfortable and happy, his family was clearly important to Q in their own convoluted way. This beaten beta was never going to be the one to offer an olive branch; James however had the choice of stepping up to the plate or reaffirming all the negative energy in the room. With a sigh he gripped Q’s ankle briefly, and stood. His mate deserved James trying, because in the reverse Q had accepted Alec beyond colleague, acquaintance and even friend to the point where the other alpha was allowed into his home and nest with welcome.

Alec was, in his opinion, much easier to get along with than Q’s estranged brethren, but James was nothing if not determined.

John stood with James and the alpha took one last glance at Q before perking up and lunging into motion when Mrs. Hudson threatened to drop a towering stack of glasses she was carrying, picturing shards going everywhere. John let out a surprised noise and hurried to help as well.

They ended up in the kitchen, Mrs. Hudson waving them in there to help rather than get in the way and set them chopping salad ingredients.

“Yes Ma-am.” James quipped back with a cheekily amused smile.

“Oh, cheeky young man!” She flapped, but seemed flushed by the behaviour, James just grinned, becoming rather fond of the woman, and John smirked at him in shared entertainment.

“So, you’ve been together how long?” the beta asked, gesturing to the Holmes huddle on the floor.

“Year and a half, known each other a year before that.” James answered, “You?”

“Oh we’re not, Sherlock and I aren’t… um about three years.” He finally finished, the brisk nature of his voice disguising nothing to James’ smirk.

He’d seen every pairing the world had thrown at him, and in his mind there seemed little doubt that these two betas were practically mated, whether or not they’d ever become sexually involved.

“Seems to be working out for you, Q showed me some of your blog.”

“Did you like it?” John asked with a smile, curious, “I would have thought it paled in comparison to your profession.” James’ smile was a little feral.

“Oh, I don’t know, the Blind Banker was right up my alley.” John swallowed a bit, but didn’t loose his smile. “Besides, I could say the same for you, you’ve clearly served.”

“And you yourself.”

“Navy.” Bond confirmed with a nod, slicing a cucumber.

“Army.” John supplied. He could practically feel the shared amusement stringing the air between them. All military roles were infamous for having jokes about the other branches. It seemed to dissolve any tension altogether and break the ice.

They exchanged further snippets for a bit, and finally came back to James’ status as MI6 operative and John’s as a mad detective’s run about companion, and by relation back to their respective Holmes’.

“Why the decision to reconnect? Was it the pregnancy?” James hummed thoughtfully.

“I don’t think he could keep this hidden on top of everything else. I’m sure deep down he couldn’t let them go.” John frowned over at the pair of brothers.

“They never spoke about him, it was as if he’s… too personal. The moment Mycroft turned up with that smug smile and announced he’d just seen ‘Aster’ Sherlock’s face struggled to contain all the emotions. He went a bit crazy ever since. Quite funny really.” James nodded, looking over to the concentrated expression of Sherlock as the beta scanned his little brother appraisingly.

“Must admit, I was quite curious. What’s he like?” James frowned and tried to think of a way to explain Q… in words, there was nothing so simple to adequately describe what his quartermaster had become to him. What they had gone through together, even since day one.

“He’s everything.” James answered. Short and truthful; Q was more to him than friend, lover, mate, quartermaster, trusted companion… John took his tone and paused for a moment in surprise before nodding with a vaguely impressed expression.

“Good on you mate.” James huffed an amused laugh at the angle-less pat on the back. Sometimes, it was nice to meet someone with similar upbringing, someone without the foibles of MI6… It was strangely relaxing.

“So, what’s your impression of the great Holmes family thus far?” James could read much from John Watson. He was a plain speaking man, steel in his core and not untwisted from his time in service. Sherlock was his way to keep living, and other than the obvious, it was clear John wouldn’t tolerate mistreatment of the genius. They were close knit, and loyal, and James could easily appreciate that.  
“Mycroft left something to be desired initially.” He commented, dryly. John hummed a frown of agreement, sympathizing.

“Bit of an overbearing bastard isn’t he.” James grinned and John returned it, leaning in a little closer. “Tried to offer me money to spy on Sherlock when I first moved in.”

“Seems the type.”

“Quite.” John paused for a moment and shrugged. “He’s gotten better though, in his own way.” James could see that, the same could be said from what he had experienced thus far. “He’s almost quite civil now.”

James appreciated the hidden pep talk, and nodded to John in understanding. ‘Give Sherlock longer than a first impression’ it seemed to say. ‘At least give him that’.

The agent decided that it was no great pain for him to agree to that.

 

-00Q00-

 

Q roused slowly, for a while not too sure where he was, and far too comfy to care. He was a little hungry though. Stretching in a sinuous, long movement, his rising arm hit something that was clearly a leg and the whole situation flooded back to him. Surprisingly, he didn’t feel too overwhelmed with the notion of having had a little kip on his somewhat estranged brother’s lap.

“I don’t like him.” Q sighed dramatically with little shock; limbs falling back to the ground limply and cracking his eyes open to fix his brother with a mutinously raised eyebrow.

“Not really your problem is it Shercroft?” Sherlock ruffled in displeasure at the name Q had used as a child to suggest his middle brother was being a bit-too-Mycrofty for his tastes. The beta glowered and stroked Q’s hair a tad roughly as if he was a gigantic cat.

“You have bad taste Asty.” Q’s brain was still rather disengaged and failed to rise to the annoying nickname, It had been far too long since Sherlock had last been so affectionate with him and it left the omega quite content and placid about the whole affair. Certainly now the initial spat was out of the way, and James seemed to have happily befriended Watson and Mrs. Hudson in the kitchen, Q felt his brother was little threat to his mate’s staying power, regardless of hostilities.

“He’s an oaf, kills people for a living, he’s too old for you, he’s just some stupid alpha, he’s clearly homicidal, h-“

“He scruffed Mycroft.” Sherlock stopped dead at the words Q had spoken calmly, watching his brother with open eyes as sharp blues flew to his in analysis of a lie. Clearly, he found none. A slow, mischievous and delighted grin begun to spread over Sherlock’s face, coating him with an expression similar to joyfully childish delirium.

“Brilliant.” He whispered. Q could almost see his brother picturing the event before the beta scrambled abruptly upright and left Q to flounder momentarily to keep steady. The detective strode across the flat and extended his hand gleefully towards James’ slightly bemused being, grin fixed firmly in place and eyes excited.

“James Bond, Sherlock Holmes, pleasure to finally meet you in the flesh.” James took the hand and Sherlock leaned in fast. “Now tell me, what did it feel like.”

Q groaned and flopped back to the carpet.

“Unbelievable.” He muttered, as James was encouraged with Sherlock’s too-rapid brainpower to describe just how he’d thrown the eldest Holmes from the doctor’s surgery. John was laughing incredulously, Sherlock was nearly bouncing in glee at the recount, and Mrs. Hudson was tutting all of them as she set some salad on the table.

Slow laughter overtook Q gradually and he let his limbs splay over the floor in final relaxation. Of course, it would be just that simple.

Contrary to a tee, that was his family.

 

-00Q00-

 

John Watson came over after a while to help Q off the floor, since Sherlock seemed unwilling to let James go as the alpha was questioned rigorously, giving back just as good as he got; Sherlock was clearly delighted.

“Q, Nice to meet you John Watson, I’ve heard quite a bit about you.” Q greeted, and gestured vaguely back to the floor “Sorry about all…that.” John raised and waved a hand to stop him, smiling honestly.

“It’s fine, nothing I’m not used to, besides, it’s a pleasure to meet you too. You took me quite by surprise.” Q imagined that was true at least, he couldn’t quite picture his older brothers chatting about him very much. John gestured over to the table where Mrs. Hudson was setting down the final dish, a steaming tray of fried breaded chicken with, more importantly, some sort of cheesy smelling sauce, leading the way over as James and Sherlock took seats.

“How far along are you?” Q opened his mouth to reply but was halted by his brother.

“No no don’t say, let me guess!” Sherlock closed his eyes, hands raised and lips murmuring to himself for a moment. It was such a familiar sight, and James’ concerned expression so hilarious, that Q tried not to laugh. “Twelve weeks and…three days!”

“Four days.” Q corrected as he slid in next to James and opposite his brother.

“Damn, should have known. Of course you’d be stubborn enough not to get pregnant until your last day of heat.” Q’s face burned and he glared at Sherlock as James and Mrs. Hudson tried not to laugh.

“Stop- stop keeping track!” He spluttered indignantly.

“I don’t keep track I remember. Mycroft keeps track. He has a spreadsheet with your yearly cycles programmed into his phone.” Q groaned and resisted the urge to bang his head. James squeezed his thigh.

“Can’t believe you didn’t tell me sooner, I missed valuable time to collect data.” Q’s head snapped up, as did John’s and Mrs. Hudson’s at the same time, the three speaking simultaneously.

“Sherlock, how could you?”

“You are not collecting data on Blasty.”

“Ahem, a bit not good Sherlock.”

The beta raised his hands in mocking resignation and sullenly begun to cut into his chicken fillet. 

“I just think you could have told me. Imagine the danger you’ve been putting yourself in without my input.” He rounded on James, who looked thoroughly entertained by the turn in events. Trust James to enjoy himself no matter the situation.

“Tell me, has he been eating properly? Running himself into the ground? Getting enough sleep?”

Q muttered several colourful curses and slathered cheese sauce over his chicken, grumbling profusely.

 

-00Q00-

 

James had to admit, they weren’t such a bad lot. Once you got over the initial shock of Sherlock, he was both interesting and unique. The similarities between him and Q were as astounding as their differences, and his whole persona practically sung of ‘once bitten twice shy’ along with ‘too clever’.

John Watson was an intriguing character with great stories and a beta-typical easygoing attitude. Together, the two of them were an impossibly well-suited duo.

Mrs. Hudson was their evidently long-suffering but incredibly fond landlady, and seemed to top off the trio nicely. Some of the stories they came out with- notably the Buckingham Palace debacle- had Q laughing so hard he was doubled over. Some of their cases were so intriguing that they had James’ rapt attention completely.

There was still a distance, a guardedness from both parties that held them apart, but that was only to be expected given the circumstances. He found himself exchanging more talk with John after lunch, lounging in chairs opposite the two window-sitting brothers and Mrs. Hudson seating on the sofa near them after bustling around with teas and coffees.

Sherlock and Q were speaking too quietly for him to hear, both of them looking out the window more than each other. James knew his mate, knew that without this quiet time he wouldn’t fully compute their interaction as complete. Instead of worry at the possible tones of their conversation James gave himself over completely to reminiscing with Watson, who seemed only too keen to chat away with someone who had been there, seen the same things. Clearly he didn’t meet many people who could relate to him. James lounged, and found himself quite enjoying it too. When Mrs. Hudson joined in with stories of army fellows she’d met on holiday one time back in the day, both military men found themselves both impressed and laughing.

 

-00Q00-

 

Sherlock sighed dramatically as he stared out the window, Q meeting the same view point of nothing in the distance as they both perched on the frame, wind playing over similar whorls of hair from where the glass was open, heat of the sun basking their faces.

“Well, I suppose you seem happy enough with him.” Sherlock conceded, and Q knew it was as good as an admission of ‘blessing’ as he was ever going to get, not that he’d set out here in hope of one, but it was nice all the same.

“I am.” He replied simply, and Sherlock huffed but said nothing. Q took a sip from whatever fruit juice Mrs. Hudson had given him and glanced back at John, who was laughing on the sofa with James.

“What about you? John seems…”

“Yes?” Sherlock interrupted, drawing Q’s gaze back with the tight lines on his face. Was he expecting some snide comment? Q nearly smirked at the thought that both his brothers could happily dish out the criticism but rarely take it. He shrugged and turned back to the sights of London.

“I like him.” Q supplied simply, and Sherlock almost did a double take, but it was so subtle he couldn’t be sure, same as with the small smile that lit his face.

“You would.” It sounded like a concession and realisation all at once. Q didn’t try to examine it, only Mycroft could understand Sherlock that well… Or maybe John. They were silent for a bit before Q had to ask the question that had been plaguing him for almost a year.

“Are you alright Sherlock?” The beta turned to him, expression neutral but with a hint of curious. Q didn’t look back, eyelids dropping half-mast as he gazed at the clouds drifting over the sky. “After what happened, and coming back, are you happy?” Sherlock said nothing, and Q hadn’t really expected an answer.

When his brother had turned up in such a state on his grieving doorstep, Q had done no thinking and simply reacted to the beta’s needs. Since then, they hadn’t spoken, and Q had tried to be okay with that, since mostly it was he who had started that lack of contact.

And he would never say he missed Sherlock, at least not to his face, because Q knew he could carry on fine without him… but it was the difference between knowing he was out there somewhere and knowing he’d gone forever. It wasn’t something he’d ever entirely gotten over. And that one week of contact had been so bizarre after so little presence in each other’s lives that Q hadn’t quite been able to compartmentalise it.

Maybe the truth was that he did miss both of his brothers, but would rather not have them at all than have them as they were back at the end of his meagre childhood. Q wouldn’t be able to cope with the poison a second time.

“That thing you did. Back then.” Q glanced over; Sherlock was looking pointedly away, so Q imitated him. “After Moriarty.”

 _When you came to my house_ , Q’s mind supplied, _when you begged me to make it right and slept in my bed and acted like I still mattered for the first time since I was fifteen._

“That was… It was well done.”

“Thank you, you mean thank you.” Q murmured out automatically. Labyrinths and mazes and darkened trails and dead ends to every word, to every feeling. Q had grown so, so sick of it. Sherlock was watching his tired melancholy calculatingly. “Don’t worry, I don’t expect you to say it. Don’t expect me to believe it either.”

Maybe Sherlock had been burned. But Q had had his fair share of fire.

“Manipulating, manipulating, manipulating.” Q uttered, feeling placid but tired, low. He didn’t know anymore if it was he who couldn’t let go or his brothers. Most of him thought it didn’t matter. Q turned and stood; ready to call James and leave.

Quite honestly, he might be causing a scene, but the whole thing was incredibly bittersweet, and after everything Sherlock couldn’t bring himself to say thank you. More crushingly, Q realised he really didn’t expect him to, and knew he really wouldn’t believe it if Sherlock did.

The thought made him wonder if maybe he had broken somewhere along the line after all. But it had all just gotten so messy towards the end. Sherlock nearly insane and constantly chasing the high of drugs, out of control and cruel beyond measure. Mycroft guilty yet controlling, bitter, trying to solve the problem his younger brother had become whatever the cost. Q hadn’t been lying; they really had torn each other apart, and nearly literally. Sherlock had punished Q for having an ‘easy way out’ as an omega, Mycroft had kept him ensnared to the point of incarceration as the fighting spread throughout the house like a disease.

Q knew he blamed them. Right or wrong, and maybe his mind was playing tricks on him still as it had been back then. But when yet another fight would cause Q to have yet another break down that he had to claw his own way back from yet again…an entire year trapped in the twists of his own mind and trapped in the smothering venom of that house had very nearly done more damage than he could stand. Q defied anyone; alpha, beta or omega, to come out of that unscathed. He knew no one would; after all, an alpha, beta and omega had been nearly lost beyond reach.

His movement gained the attention of the others in the room, and James’ eyes met his sharply, calm but ready to leap into action. Q met them back, just blank, feeling a lot like that lost and mindlessly scared teenager he had been. The omega was about to open his mouth to apologise and claim some weak excuse as to why they had to leave, now, James already standing to match him, when a hand closed around his from behind. Q swung to Sherlock, a little shocked at his unpredictable move. The beta’s eyes were hard and determined and something else Q was a little too shaken to read.

“No.” Sherlock said simply, and pulled Q towards the bathroom. He went, too shell-shocked to fight back, eyes briefly meeting James’ blues that showed piercing intensity. John had stood now too, and was looking from Q to Sherlock with a frown. Mrs. Hudson looked confused and nervous. James’ eyes said that all Q had to do was shout and he’d be there, before Sherlock pulled him into the small tiled room and shut the door.

Sherlock pulled Q round to face him, looking angry and tormented and honestly unnerving.

“When I came back, you were gone, you had disappeared.”

“I was there with you in the hospital, in rehab.” Q nearly whispered, hating the suggestion of abandonment as much as a small part of him admitted it was true.

“You were gone long before that.” Sherlock argued back. Q narrowed his eyes slightly.

“So were you.” He wasn’t being blamed for this…whatever it was. Something contracted in Sherlock’s eyes then, something he hadn’t seen in years… and it wasn’t quite pity, but it was close enough.

“You were gone in here.” Sherlock reached over and tapped Q’s temple. The omega slapped his hand away, eyes snapping towards the door as if James might burst in. Sherlock looked at him knowingly.

“Does he know?” Q shook his head, throat tightening as his eyes pricked traitorously, sucking his lips in to bite them as it that might stave off the well of emotion fighting up inside him. He didn’t meet Sherlock’s eyes.

“It wasn’t just us. You’re intelligent enough to know that much. You couldn’t vent it on Father you couldn’t even touch him, but it was easily translated onto us, I’m sure we were bad enough anyway.” Q’s fists clenched, and he wished he’d never come here, why had he come here?

Q made for the door, but Sherlock grabbed him again and pulled him back against a tiny whimper. Q squeezed his eyes shut and hated that Sherlock had always read him like a book, knew there was something wrong with Q that no one was doing anything about long before anyone else had.

“You’re not running away again. Don’t pretend it was all sunshine and puppies and don’t pretend you came out of it without infection. He needs to know.” Q’s laugh was strained and slightly hysterical, near silent in the bathroom.

“Did you tell John?” Sherlock didn’t so much as twitch.

“What wasn’t obvious was either guessed or slipped out. He’s clever enough-“

“So’s James.” Q snapped out finally opening his eyes to glare venomously at Sherlock…who was smiling.

“You’ve grown up.” Q pushed him off roughly and was almost immediately pulled back into a tight hug. “You need to tell him. Isn’t that one of the reasons you came? To prove you were better?” Sherlock’s voice was sharp but calm, in control, so much control that Q had fought tooth and nail to get back. “I know you, you’ve changed, you aren’t like you used to be back then… You need to realise that Mycroft and I aren’t either.” Q hiccupped and smacked Sherlock in the chest, there was a knock on the door, not too loud, but firm enough that Q knew James must have smelt his distress.

“Q?” He sucked in some breaths till he thought he could speak without squeaking.

“I-in a minute.” Sherlock ducked till he was whispering rapidly in Q’s ear, causing the younger’s head to spin a little, and he got the impression that if Sherlock didn’t say this at the speed he thought the words, they would never make it past his barriers.

“You’re not the same person anymore Q, you did what you felt you had to do at the time, you took yourself away from all your triggers completely, same as I chased my way into another frame of mind with the drugs, same as Mycroft tried to control everything so that he’d never be in a position of vulnerability again. Don’t let us become your triggers when we don’t have to be, when you’re better than that now. Come on, use your mind Aster, don’t let it use you.”

Q could only struggle in quiet, desperate breaths, feeling like he was going to itch out of his skin. All that seemed to be keeping him together were the arms around him…

And Sherlock _had_ changed. Mycroft too, they weren’t the same. Mycroft was being supportive, affectionate, close. Sherlock had let them into his home, let others in before them…

“Just tell him, you were ill, you got better. We were all ill.”

“I think he already knows.” Q admitted, voice barely more than a strangled, high-pitched whisper. “He’s very good.”

“Then he wont be surprised, but you need to tell him. If nothing else, I wont accept you back here until you do. After that, we can focus on stopping Mycroft from being such an insufferable arse till he gets over his commitment issues.

Q laughed, he couldn’t help it, it wasn’t entirely healthy sounding but he couldn’t care less.

“J-John’s blog said you’d been watching day time TV too much.” He managed, one of Sherlock’s hands was stroking his hair, and he wondered if during the last year, since the faked suicide, his brother might have become a more functional person. If nothing else, the beta had always enjoyed partnership, maybe now he was just more able to admit it.

Q pulled back and Sherlock let him, watching as the younger man slowly fixed his hair and clothes.

“Tell him.” Q’s strength faltered for a moment of trembling lips before he took a deep breath, and nodded, pulling himself together. Their eyes met briefly, Sherlock smirking a little at the cool-in control MI6 persona Q managed to raise. The omega was mildly proud of himself for managing to keep the control in place under that gaze for the first time, his middle brother who so easily got under his skin.

“I’ll call you.” Sherlock said as Q turned to the door, and it was half threat half promise. The meaning was clear: you need to do this, if he gives you any problems I’m going to come for you. Q didn’t reply, but instead pulled the door open and was rounded on by James, who with the best will in the world looked ready to burn down buildings underneath the lethal calm.

“Alright?” He questioned stiffly. Q glanced back as Sherlock breezed out, smiling and clearly chuffed. John was shooting him a quizzical glance and then jerking his head at the younger omega as if to ask what the hell was going on.

“Aster was just off, weren’t you, come back next week and I’ll measure the growth of your parasite.” Q pushed his hair back in nervous habit, and reached out to shake John’s hand goodbye, aware he probably looked a mess whilst Sherlock appeared unruffled. Mrs. Hudson would settle for nothing less than a kiss on the cheek from both him and James, and Q hurried out of the flat.

Two blocks down, James close behind him and tense but carefully not talking, Q ducked into an alley and doubled over to throw up, nerves eating away at him and shaking him, refusing to let go. He held his stomach and hissed breaths, shivering, hearing James growl dangerously and start to turn. Q reached out and grabbed his hand tightly, catching blue eyes briefly and shaking his head.

“S-stay with me. It’s not him.” Q managed, voice shaking all over the place in minor panic at the thought of telling James everything he’d buried so deep, everything he should have said from when they were first courting or mated. James’ eyes never left him, moving closer and sliding arms around Q, pulling him upright and close.

“You’re killing me Q.” James growled, ill at ease. Q sighed and nuzzled into his shoulder.

“I don’t mean to…” There was silence for a long, long while. “When we get home, I’m going to need to tell you some things. And you wont like them.” James ran a hand up and down Q’s spine, kissed the side of his head and remained silent. Q whispered ‘sorry’ into his mate’s collar and felt James coil impossibly tight around him.

“I never want you to have to tell me something if it hurts too much. But know that nothing you could say would make me love you less.” Q took a moment to breathe slowly in and out.

“I know, but I think I need to.” James nodded and held him tight enough to calm him down, and Q thought that even if it would be hard, James was the one person who he trusted to accept him with everything. And James more than deserved the chance to hear what had his mate snared in the wire regardless of the outcome, Q owed him that much.

Trusted him so much more than anything or anyone. Implicitly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE WAIT IS OVER...for better or worse! xD  
> Fluff at the top and angst at the bottom? I know, I'm mean, whoops! But half of that I didn't intend to come out so early...it just became flow. Feel it? Anyway...
> 
> The calming plant I completely made up btw, I would have used something conventional but I'm allergic to chamomile and dislike lavender. ;D Also for those who are curious about any of the A/B/O mating/breeding dynamics in this (I've had some questions) here be a google docs link (there was too much to put in here neatly)  
> Feel free to ask any further questions, I probably didn't get it all, and I shall update as necessary:  
> https://docs.google.com/file/d/0B5oKR2xMaMx9LU41cjNrN00yMzQ/edit?usp=sharing
> 
> I hope that this was enjoyable and worth the wait despite the angst! Please don't stab me for too many pitchforks for another cliffhanger? I know, I'm a sick sick person!  
> Pretty much since the beginning I thought James and Sherlock would bond over the scruffing incident, much to Mycroft's chagrin.
> 
> I was going to cut this in half before it got moody but as I'm on a little holiday next week (Scotland here I come baby!) I thought I'd give you all a nice long present to tide over to next weekend.
> 
> Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed n_n


	17. H0: One flew over the cuckoo's nest; H1: Everyone fell down the rabbit hole.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for the holiday wishes! I had a great time; one of my friends reminded me that they had nicknamed me Q where we worked together! (stood for 'quarter' of a vet, as I'm a behaviourist instead...I may now excuse myself to get a t-shirt!) And I got to put feet where Ben Whishaw has by climbing the tower they filmed some of Cloud Atlas in! xD ...I may have had too much fun...
> 
> Thanks for the patience for this; enjoy n_n

James sat on the couch next to Q, and listened to his younger mate talk about things the alpha knew he’d have some trouble walking away from. Not one thing made him love Q any less, but there was no shortage of new thoughts to keep him up at night. Keep them both up at night.

“Throughout my childhood, I had what you might call an extended psychotic break.” It wasn’t an opener that really led to good news. Of course, that much was patently obvious from Q’s demeanour.

James sat, and held Q’s hand, as the tangled net of his quartermaster’s childhood was laid out bare as bones.

Q’s father had been cold, and strict. Q’s mother had been weak since his birth, which had gone rather badly, though that didn’t stop either parent spending their day working. Clearly Q had gotten that drive clear and strong through the gene pool.

The care of a young Q, once a toddler, passed largely to a teenaged Mycroft and an under-ten Sherlock. Sherlock and Mycroft did not see eye-to-eye.

Mycroft was already several years ahead of school, and Sherlock was just as, if not more, bright, though he didn’t really apply himself. Mycroft followed the rules, and Sherlock acted out. Their father paid Sherlock little to no attention, especially when he behaved badly, which of course only made it worse. Mycroft bore the brunt of their father’s ambitions, whilst being saddled with the knowledge that he was smarter, though the man was clever, than his father would ever be. Yet, Mycroft was no fighter, and would never stand up to the patriarch. That much had been ingrained into him since birth.

The alpha had to play mother, and Sherlock detested the attention he got for being a ‘good alpha’ when the beta knew he was just as smart. Mycroft tried, and was encouraged to, force Sherlock to be more ‘proper’, which of course didn’t work and created bad blood all round.

Q’s parents were afraid of another Sherlock, knew he was an omega from birth of course, and swiftly set out to teach him how to behave.

Q was exceedingly bright, was home tutored by professionals from age two, and was rarely let out of the house. His father thought him weak physically as an omega, needing direction and dominance. Q had never been hurt by their father or mother, in fact both would offer him some kind of attention when they returned home from work because he was quiet and didn’t act out of place… But Q’s father didn’t trust his intelligence, any playing or experiments Q did out in the open were removed or destroyed and viewed as careless or stupid rather than a spark of genius. He wasn’t the same as his brothers in terms of intelligence, who had both been to school, and was judged unfortunately on the same scale, uncaring for his aptitudes in the realm of science and engineering.

Frustrated intellectually, and self-separated from his brothers whenever they fought, which was more often than not, Q hid to play with anything he wanted to tinker with, and soon just hid.

A bolthole here or a nook there were escapes into another world free from confusing emotions that he was too young to understand from his brothers and parents.

Q told James that when he hid he could finally be himself, his sensitivity as both child and omega wasn’t battered by the toaster or circuits or whatever else he magpied down there. No piece of machinery was going to be incomprehensible. Q knew that technology had problems that were solvable no matter how complicated as long as you looked close enough. They didn’t fight, didn’t make him feel anything other than mild frustration and overwhelming curiosity and satisfaction, and they certainly were never callous or cruel. If Q cut his finger he knew it was because he had poked something sharp that needed care and sanding over… If his heart hurt when Sherlock pushed him and told him to roll over because that was his ‘position’ in life, or ached when Mycroft handled him brusquely and told him that he had to try harder, Q could never rationalise just what he’d done wrong or how to fix it, because the next day Sherlock would be dragging him somewhere fun and Mycroft would be patting his head.

Their minds worked too differently, too fast for him to keep up, and largely their moods towards Q were merely inflections of what they were feeling for each other at the time.

They had too much free reign with each other and Q.

Q’s father would discipline him for any sign of latent, yet not understood, intelligence. Believing that Q couldn’t keep himself safe or was showing signs of acting out. Rules became harsher, Q submitted automatically to anyone, everyone, even the postman, just so that there wouldn’t be another shout or fight or punishment or fuss… Just because it was his automatic reaction. Q couldn’t deal with the emotions, would go find somewhere to hide, and wouldn’t so much as speak around his father unless asked to.

Mummy would always treat them with more love, but she wasn’t often there, and even she was stern. Q was very quiet, and didn’t ask for anything because it was too much emotion; he slipped by unnoticed in the midst of Sherlock and Mycroft.

Q came to realise, as he approached the age of ten, that his brothers were different from his father, treated him differently. Mycroft had been to boarding school, and though he was in control there through his upbringing, their father still controlled the house. Mycroft was starting to be doubtful, though too smart to show it. He noticed Q’s prolonged hiding, by now stretching to days at a time, and took a bit more care. He became almost obsessive and controlling, kept Q under very close tabs, but also talked to him more, taught him little school things, shared some things whilst he held Q that the omega knew wouldn’t be heard by anyone else. He became different to father, a bit more like what Q needed, and he clung to those moments without seeking them out. The fact that he couldn’t predict them was difficult to understand, but he cherished them none the less.

Sherlock was different too, he was still cruel rather than Mycroft’s callousness; when he was bored or angry after being punished or ignored he would take it out on the only person he could control… but by the time Q was approaching ten, Sherlock was a teenager, had more freedom since their parents were giving up on him. They went on more adventures, and Sherlock spent less time pushing Q towards the floor or ranting at him about how weak omegas were. Q was precious with his experiments, and even when Sherlock found out he had them after the first time the beta enlisted his help in cleaning up after an investigation went wrong, the omega was reluctant to share anything. He gave Sherlock tid-bits, and watched them being used, and felt something. Still, he couldn’t keep up very well, and whenever something good happened, another fight would spring up and all the light would seem to vanish from the world. Q would hide, and hide and hide, and curl up into balls at the sound of shouting, or the quick-paced fast words he couldn’t understand except as being snide or cruel.

It was so, so much easier to hide, but he never really left the house unless it was to run over fields with Sherlock. He was still home schooled even on the days his teachers couldn’t find him.

“There was one week, when everything seemed to go wrong all at once and none of us really know… or maybe they do, it’s quite fragmented for me.” James prepared to weather the storm, knowing it would pass, knowing he’d need more time to digest everything, but he knew Q needed to get it all out now. Q fiddled with their fingers, eyes blinking the precursor of stressed tears, and forced himself to carry on.

“Father had a heart attack.”

It coincided with a week that was difficult for even Q to compartmentalise, something he’d done almost rabidly since starting to hide at age three.

Everyone was home from school or work, some kind of holiday. They’d gone out for a meal, the first Q could remember, to celebrate something for Mycroft. Q could only remember shaking in his seat with utter terror at all the people and eventually tried to hide under the table, there had been people trying to get him out and Q just rolled over and cried and went limp as a rag doll. They took him home. They put him in his room, and he couldn’t move. They left him to rest, and started fighting.

“It was the first time I ever couldn’t cope. Something broke…” Q tapped his head, and James fought not to gulp.

Q described what could only be a full-blown panic attack at age ten, on his own, without anyone to help him. He couldn’t breathe, could barely move, the walls were closing in and everything just crushed until he was screaming and sobbing and biting.

The family found him nearly too late and Q remembered being in private patient care, paid off by the family, being sick and terrified. He didn’t speak a word.

In his mind he went into a bolthole and refused to come out, even when he was moved back home days later.

During the same week Sherlock got arrested for the first time for taking drugs. Cocaine apparently, and James tried not to raise an eyebrow because that was a heavy drug to start off with, but the middle Holmes seemed to do things in a peculiar pattern.

Q knew Sherlock was put on lock down only because his brother was secluded to Q’s room so both ‘issues’ could be dealt with succinctly. Q remembered breaking out of his mind with the _wrong wrong_ smell long enough to go to his brother, and a cornered Sherlock gathering him up and close before their father came in and threw a fit at seeing the beta trying to ‘influence’ his clearly sick, weak and impressionable little brother. Q remembered rolling over automatically, throwing his mind down a rabbit hole and fuzzy voices shouting but unable to breach the fortress.

Sherlock wouldn’t talk to him for months for giving in so easily, maybe because it was he who had helped that conditioning along a bit too much.

Two days after Sherlock’s arrest Mummy had come down sick. Mycroft wanted to move Q and Sherlock to the hospital with her, their father hadn’t wanted the stress of them there. Q only knew the rest because Mycroft took a stand. The young alpha, now in his twenties and quite independent from his schooling, stormed into the room his brothers were kept in, and since he couldn’t wrestle Sherlock out of his fury simply picked Q up off the bed.

Being held kept Q more placid and focused than the situation warranted, and downstairs there had been another row; the first between his father and oldest brother. Q was dropped to the couch, remembered trying to burrow into the cushions, anger turning to horror and deathly silence…the scent of death in the room.

The heart attack was fatal, an ambulance and police turned up, no investigation, cause of death was obvious and seemingly innocent. Q remembered vomiting and rolling over whenever someone came too close. Eventually Mycroft was allowed to phone Mummy, and then take Q and Sherlock to her.

“I only remembered being held, whoever was with me, holding me, talking about their stuff, I was pretty much catatonic. No one expected me to be fine.”

James took a deep breath, and squeezed his mate’s hand. Q looked ragged and exhausted, continuing in a mostly emotionless voice.

“It got a bit better after that. Once things had died down and Mycroft had taken over the family, he sent me to school. Small, private. Still huge in comparison to my world before… I hadn’t realised that not everyone lived like us, that my family wasn’t normal. It took a long time to adjust, but everyone was informed that I’d lost my father and they were being paid more than enough to go above and beyond to keep me happy. The teachers saw I was clever, and praised it, I found a release, some place where I didn’t have to hide what I was good at. Slowly, there were even friends, of a sort. I met other families, I got better… but at the end of each day I’d still have to come home.”

There was nothing so vile about the house now, but ingrained behaviours and fears run deep. Q had managed to compartmentalise his life again, now leaving him with home, hidden and school. Sherlock improved without their father, and with Mycroft working so much that he was only home in the evenings. Together, they had more escapades than ever before, more time with each other. Through those adventures, Q begun to stand up to his brother a bit more, now that he was more confident in his own potential. Q even stood up slightly to Mycroft on rare occasion, though never without a logical reason and he backed down from both pretty readily.

He still hid whenever they fought, or whenever things got too much for him, still couldn’t stop himself submitting to anyone who came in the house that wasn’t his brothers, still never gave his mother any trouble at all.

The upward trend at school continued, but made the fighting worse, harder to take. And Q was growing up but retreating into himself. He wasn’t so young anymore, his brothers didn’t need to make sure he was eating and sleeping on time. Sherlock wasn’t allowed to leave; Mycroft was scared for him and worried about him going back to drugs, dealing with it by controlling the younger’s movements. When he wasn’t at home, it wasn’t a problem.

When Q was fourteen sickness got the better of Mummy, and no medicine could help her relatively peaceful demise. Q had cried, Mycroft hadn’t spoken for once in his life, Sherlock had become angry, started spending longer and longer outside the house. He came back smelling bad. Mycroft tried to rein them in tighter. The alpha commuted to work, tied by history and training to preserve the house he kept his brothers in.

Sherlock was lucky in some respects; betas are fairly low-key children growing up physically. No one in the house knew how to help an omega first hand, and Q was maturing.

“My first heat hit when I was fifteen. I didn’t know what was going on; wasn’t really prepared for it, I’d always been sick and just assumed it was fever, my teachers were too busy watching me for signs of withdrawing to notice. Thought it was grief probably.” James hand tightened on Q’s. Fifteen was on the early end of the spectrum for first heats, not unheard of, but uncommon, and rough. Q scrubbed at his eyes with a frown. “My body was suddenly going haywire and everyone was pretty busy, I usually got home first and hid. The day it really hit it took me so long to get home that even Mycroft was back, took one sniff at me stumbling in and realised what was going on.”

James was at least relieved to hear Q describing his brothers caring for him properly during his first heat, as well as they could whilst keeping him at home. And the alpha wasn’t sure about that, but often by the time early heats struck it was too late to move the individual to a hospital, too much extra stress on the body.

“I properly came round a week later, delirious and barely able to move. It seemed to change things in the house.” First heats for omegas are rough times; their whole bodies changing, an upswing of hormones… If not handled correctly, or with pre-existing conditions, they can suffer physical and psychological distress on top of the exhaustion heat rages on the system.

Mycroft and Sherlock saw Q weak and suffering from first-heat mental vulnerability. Actually quite common symptoms as the body adjusts to a massive transformation, and un-suppressed or un-mated heats are unpleasant enough. Omegas are typically a little unsure, comfort seeking, and more sensitive, all to varying degrees.

“They just saw it as a confirmation of everything my father had ever said.” Q’s voice broke as he sobbed the words out, unable to separate himself from the memory of anguish, frustration and abject depression he must have felt. James’ face contorted.

Two young-ish, conditioned men, attempting to care for a younger brother whilst hideously incompetent and unwilling to see that; unable to realize it, saw only what they had been taught all along. The ultimate event that cemented Q as an omega left him weak and vulnerable, probably –considering everything- mildly more effected mentally than normal. They saw him maybe seeking attention or direction, uneasy or maybe even scared, unable to function entirely, and assumed the worst. Their brother needed help, their brother wasn’t capable of self-coping.

“M-Mycroft kept me locked up until I was standing straight and Sherlock m-made me lie down all the time and no one let anyone near me.”

By the time Q had had two weeks recovery, he had received none of what he needed, and only dominance and direction when his body craved care and attention. Q regressed both in and out of the house. Behavioral changes being normal after a first heat, the well-paid teachers clearly didn’t see much. He stopped excelling, stopped interacting, stopped coping.

Sherlock, reminded now forcibly of their father and the past conditioning they had all received and conducted, resorted back to heavy drugs.

Mycroft, loosing the war on both sides with one rebelling, stoned brother who didn’t see fit to hide his growing addiction, and one brother refusing to initiate contact or any sort of interaction, steadily on the route back to catatonic; had responded in the only way he knew how: control the situation at all costs.

As a result Sherlock became increasingly violent and unpredictable whilst Q ran away to the point where his mind wasn’t in the same room as him.

“Some sort of dissociative coping mechanism, I remember being in the same room as them and the instant one of them talked in any raised way I’d throw myself away. Maybe a thought of engineering I’d follow or just some snippet of whatever. Physically I was there but I’m not even sure if I responded. If I did it was automatic.”

James listened as Q described the descent of a year into a black pit.

His following heats were almost better than the rest; it was the only time his brother’s instincts took over their intellect and allowed them to care naturally. Afterwards he’d be left feeling just as dependent but unable to voice it for the ‘stability’ the elders attempted to place in him.

More Mycroft at this point, Sherlock was long gone into his own world.

There were still moments of fragmented and twisted closeness; Sherlock so high he let go and stole his brother on some adventure only the beta was privy to, or simply clutched possessively at the younger in what Q readily accepted as a hug. Mycroft would still claim Q for use as a sounding board, feed him, ask him about school…

But clearly things were slipping out of any semblance of control. Sherlock nearly OD’d and was committed to hospital and therapy, spitting and snarling all the way. Q was reaching the point where he just couldn’t feel nothing anymore.

Rage is an uncommon and severe condition in omegas; unless defending pups anything above anger is highly rare. Q’s frustration knew no escape, was eating him up inside, bad biting habits transformed into fitful thrashes in his room; either throwing himself around or objects as his body and mind battled with conditioning and unfulfilled needs.

Mycroft was drowning in the deep end.

“I think he took time off work, towards the end. Sherlock was getting better, coming home. As long as I’d found somewhere to vent for a while I could pretend to still be blank of emotions…” Q trailed off and his voice shook. “But once- once we were all back in the house I knew, felt so keenly that everything would start again; all the fighting and hurt, that it became unbearable. My school was having exams, my once nearly-friends were choosing schools. It was ridiculously easy to fake the papers, give myself more advanced exams and get into a university far away, arrange boarding… It was even easier to scrub the trail. I threw myself into everything, one last-ditch effort that consumed all the nervous energy momentarily. The moment my results came through; one set pre-arranged as fake, I finally felt control, calm… It was unmatchable.” Q’s eyes drifted off to the side into the distance, and for a horrible moment it wasn’t hard to see what he must have looked like at his most dissociative and wrecked.

“I waited until Sherlock was settled, then I packed up a bag and I left.”

Q was no idiot, he had done the research and knew where he needed to go, managed to become undetectable and untraceable through sheer manipulation and intelligence honed to nothing else; he’d been hiding all his life.

The omega escaped to university off the bat with grades faked at another age, managed himself strictly into solitary environments to limit his contact with anyone that might encourage him to submit, and slowly, slowly integrated himself back into the introverted side of society.

Q had discovered computers, and he could completely escape. His hiding transformed into coding that took him away for days and allowed more access to a world and control than he could ever have dreamed of. Not to mention, a whole new type of people, through which Q would come to open up to the world again.

Any assurances that he was safe were too well encrypted and coded to reveal location, any replies dealt with ruthlessly and without sentiment. Really, it seemed that they all escaped. Q kept tabs; tracked his brothers vaguely enough to know that Sherlock, whilst still being heavily watched over, had developed a business of sorts to fit his needs. Mycroft was also free to sail as far as he had always been capable.

They didn’t stop trying to find him every now and then, but Q would never let them. Only the very briefest of contacts. There was so much more out there for him now.

The omega met others like him, a female computer-fanatic who shared his first coding job. She worried in an entirely new way; could scent stress on him and simply asked when he’d last nested.

Q’s weak attempts as a child apparently didn’t count for much.

“I wasn’t comfortable sharing nests with others but she lent me a book on ‘Zen nesting’ and sent several links. She said that it’s the best way for self-comfort if you don’t have family with you and aren’t close enough to any friends and don’t have a mate to help.” Q’s laugh was exhausted but still vaguely amazed. “I was skeptical, but the first one I made I never wanted to leave. Everything seemed to slot together and suddenly I could help myself in those moments before it all became too much for me. It was pure relief.”

James’s tangled emotions rose increasingly as Q explained that he managed to get better, help himself and let others help him. Once MI6 took notice of him they put him on the right course with the right people, even giving him help with all aspects of health since he was a person of interest. They got him suppressants, the dosage taking a while to settle and honed by the time he was formally welcomed to the fold.

Q’s new work carried him away. He could be a different person around these people, and managed to slip from his shell, although he maintained strict barriers between colleagues and the potential for more. Throughout uni he’d ventured out on some dates, of course nothing much beyond kissing; it was usually alphas and betas that slept around before mating, though he’d had some light sexual interaction with others of different sexes, it was never as important as work.

Overall, he became better.

Sherlock and Mycroft were allowed an e-mail address, nothing more at first. All three of them were so bad at communicating that correspondences were few and far between as each brother alternatively attempted to quiz Q or use him as a sounding board.

Q taught Mycroft a few sneaky pointers on security footage and how to have some direct control. Sherlock found himself, after complaining, with a program to text multiple numbers within a vicinity.

“In the messages I could tell something had changed, towards each other. There were still bitter feelings and malcontent, but more tolerance. When not stuck together, they seemed to cope better.”

They were still Q’s emergency contacts, and the explosion Silva orchestrated led his brothers right to him. It wasn’t comfortable, but numbers were exchanged and gradually non-direct contact became easier, even enjoyable.

“They were definitely different, with each other. Although I think they’d rather die than admit it, that they care…until today anyway.” Q shifted with a sigh, wrung out and looking like he needed nothing better than to sleep. James carefully controlled his breathing.

“Sherlock alluded to it, said we were all ill, seemed to understand what had happened to all of us and why… Don’t know where he bloody keeps it all when I can barely remember bits of it.”

“You were young Q.” James suggested, strained voice a plea and offering all at once. It was the simplest, nicest way to phrase everything he felt, his anguish over what his mate had lived through.

When James’ parents had died, he had hidden in that wretched sanctuary of a tunnel for two days he barely remembered now for all their trapped emotions. Q had hidden for at least that length of time every week since the age of three, forced into his own imploding mind like a rabbit in a snare; noose tightening with every struggle.

It was a wonder this sane quartermaster was sitting with him now. Q looked over at him, eyes unsteady and unsure, vulnerable in a way James wanted to kiss away, but found himself utterly unable to move at the tormenting emotions he was experiencing.

“Do you need some time?” Q clearly had nothing left for bravado, his quiet voice understanding but fragile. James let out a deep, rushed breath before he spoke, rubbing his face before pulling out of the tension he had fallen into.

“Maybe, probably…” Q moved away incrementally and James seized his hand tighter before the upset frown the omega had worn all evening could become more pronounced. Green eyes widened in surprise and flew up to him, shifting a little when he met the intensity of James’ focus.

“I am not leaving you.” The assurance in his voice was met by a small, melancholic but truthful smile from Q. He surprised the alpha by raising their clasped hands to kiss James’ fingers briefly.

“I know. I’d rather you take some time, and come back after, than not be able to think in here.” James found himself rendered momentarily speechless by his mate; Q knew him far too well. “Its okay, you do what you need,” Q soothed, blinking with an exhaustedly sad smile. “I’m going to sleep for a bit.”

Q started leaning away to lie down and James quickly took hold of him, lowering the svelte body instead. His mate looked a bit bemused, but all of James’ instincts were thrumming to protect-care-soothe so much that he couldn’t even stop if he wanted to.

The alpha slid a confident hand into Q’s soft hair and lent over to press a deep, slow kiss onto his omega. Lingering but not heated, James poured all of his loyalty and devotion into it, lathing Q’s mouth with twining tongues. Q grabbed at him with gentle hands and accepted the kiss greedily, obvious relief pouring through in short breaths.

James detached from his quartermaster to follow his hands in their slide down Q’s sides, pushing up his tops to cradle and kiss the small, burgeoning swell of pup in his mate’s belly. He omega breathed out with a soft noise and James looked up to see utter love masking the heartache of minutes before. The alpha’s heart was set, and certainly nothing said tonight would change that, especially since Q was willingly giving him the digestion time needed for such a depth of information.

“I will come back.” Q blinked rapidly at him and James stood, lifted his mate’s long limbs into curling on the sofa, and hastened to grab one of Q’s nestling blankets. Despite the warm temperature the omega let himself be carefully draped in the material, bemused and quirk-smiled.

“James-“

“Shh, love.” James hushed him gently with a quick kiss to the lips and hurried off to get water, ice cream, laptop, TV remote, book and phone; setting the assembled comforts beside Q on the coffee table and puling it within easy reach.

“You don’t have to-“ James crouched beside Q’s head before he could say another word or get up, and curled an arm around his blanketed form. He leant and pressed a long, lingering kiss into the omega’s temple that had him blinking again.

“I’m not leaving you un-relaxed.” Another tender kiss was laid to Q’s eyebrow. “I’ll be back soon.”

“Okay.”

 

-00Q00-

 

Bond spent an hour and a half drinking in a bar a decent walk from home. Both the motion and the alcohol soothing him back from rage he could do nothing about. Truly James didn’t want to take anything out on Mycroft now that he was admitting penance and attempting to treat his little brother correctly. Neither did he want to beat Sherlock, who had sounded torn over his involvement and handled it incorrectly, but was now the one willing to spend twenty minutes sitting on the floor with Q and coaxing him to be open with James himself.

It was crushing, and to hear about someone he loved with every fiber of his being going through such extended hell was agonizing.

By the time he’d finished his drink, still pretty sober, and walked the distance back, James wanted nothing more than to have Q in his arms.

Their flat was dark, and it struck James that they’d need somewhere new before next year. Q was twelve weeks pregnant; about three months, and wouldn’t be getting any more maneuverable for house searching.

The very thought of Q rotund and plump left James longing and heated, moving easily through the dark to his dozing mate and bending to rest their temples together. He nuzzled loosely and scented Q whilst the omega nudged back in sleepy recognition, stretching out luxuriously in every which way. James lent back enough to admire the view, the thin blanket draping over Q’s frame in the faint light from outside, the contour of his belly just visible in a way that pooled blood south and sent lightning up his spine.

Aroused though he was however, James just wanted to make Q happy, make sure he relaxed… A thought sparked happily into his mind and the alpha swiftly and gently scooped up the limp sprawl of his mate, collecting all the splayed limbs and transporting the sleepy omega to the bedroom.

 

-00Q00-

 

Q was so emotionally and physically exhausted that the minute James laid him down on the bed he rolled onto his side and snuggled into the blankets to sleep. He came round not minutes later to the feeling of James faffing around him with blankets and generally causing an increasingly annoyed ruckus. James was usually a sound sleeper unless having a nightmare; but right now he was awake. Q shifted and uncurled himself, mildly surprised to be in the middle of the bed with James beside him and piles around them. He blinked at the circle and the sight of 007 wrestling with a pile of cascading pillows… all of Q’s nesting bedding clearly all but upended around the pair of them.

“Um, darling, what are you doing?” He asked carefully, rubbing his face and failing to clear his glasses-less vision and foggy mind. 

“Trying to make a nest for you.” James huffed and threw down a pillow in defeat; glaring at it as if it deserved to die a slow and painful death for hampering his plans. “Its harder than it looks.”

Q burst out laughing, feeling lighter than he had all day and entirely endeared.

“Here, here let me help, I’ve never made a proper one with you.” That much was true, before Alec came along and clearly had a clue about what he was doing, Q had kept all extensive nests a solitary endeavor. Although he’d nested a bit around James to much fond amusement and contentment, he’d been reserved about going into ‘full throttle’ nest mode and scaring his mate away.

Now he got to be pleasantly surprised as James relished the constructive challenge of a safe-secure-comfy nest. Q didn’t inform the alpha that he was suggesting simple designs and ideas, rather enjoying the feeling of building a nest together and joy of seeing his mate’s face as they accomplished something quite sturdy.

In the middle of their bed they sat surrounded by a barricade of padding and cushioned by a wealth of blankets.

Q felt a little heated from the activity and curled close when James pulled him down to undress before they twined to sleep.

With the scent of his alpha almost enhanced in the enclosed area, and the warm-solid feel of muscles against him and powerful limbs, Q was torn between arousal and the lure of comfy sleeping.

James’ arms looped around him, one curling entirely around his belly and setting up camp petting him there, a leg thrown over his own in a careless closeness. Q blushed a bit and wriggled further into the protective embrace, drinking in the contact. The alpha scooped him closer, tighter. Q’s body reacted fast and the omega could feel himself wet. Fretting mildly that James was probably a bit strung out from the events of the evening, he attempted to subtly shift away only to rub up against James’ clear interest and found one of his own hands automatically heading south to tease at his slickening entrance.

“Christ.”

The low, pleased curse in his ear had Q’s breath catching, hitching his legs up to offer more of a view and also more access to his own fingers. James’ hand stopped stroking to simply cup and hold his belly, massaging gently. The hold did things for Q and his legs slowly shifted, toes curling, breath turning to small keens as he felt James’ coat the back of his neck heavily.

His fingers circled, teased, but never penetrated, getting caught up in the slow tingling pleasure gripping his body. Wet begun to happily drip out of him and coat his buttocks. James’ hand reached beside Q’s to tease, the joint ministrations nearly too much until large fingers penetrated in a slow, strong movement. Q’s hand slipped away and fell to clutching his cock, almost to hinder the arousal as James’ slow work stroked him.

James’ fingers were nearly lax inside him, the stroking movements slow and languid, lazy finger fucking at its most delicious, the occasional pause to wiggle left Q dizzy and thirsty for more, but only too content to draw out the moment. The omega released himself to reach back and clench around James’ hard cock, testing the impressive girth, fingers slipping on the velvet flesh leaking with pre come.

With a whine Q twisted around and burrowed deeper into the nest till he was nuzzling that wet cock and panting in strong musk. Intoxicating, and Q wanted to taste. He licked up, enjoying the hitch of breath and contraction of fingers that James managed to keep inside him, closing his lips around the head in a comfortable mouthful and suckling happily on the smooth thickness.

Soothed somehow by the familiar, deep and sharp taste, Q wrapped his arms around James, clutching at firm muscles in the alpha’s hips and arse. James groaned in pleasure above him, one hand still toying inside Q and the other petting his hair. The omega kept it as lazy and almost sloppy as the fingers inside him, feeling himself trembling with the ministrations and soaking, contentedly gulping around the large head of his mate’s gloriously sized cock.

Eventually James pulled him up, though Q could tell by the lack of coordination of both their bodies that they were both teetering on the edge of pleasured delirium. Q rolled quickly onto his side and raised his hips. James’ hand slid back around to cup his belly at the same time that the alpha pressed in and home.

The fill was exquisite and Q squirmed on it happily before nudging back into James. Together they started a languid pace, occasionally barely moving, and Q could tell that he was drifting deliciously between sleep and orgasm. James shuddered and tightened his hold, breath washing over the omega as he climaxed. The feel of his mate’s knot swelling suddenly inside him from a nearly still thrust toppled Q over the edge, feeling the spurt deep inside him and gasping through his own keens and convulsions of ecstasy.

Content and full, with James snugged deep inside and firmly knotted together Q drifted off to sleep, clenching occasionally and receiving a pleasant thrust in return.

 

-00Q00-

 

Q was beginning to consider the fact that this pregnancy was almost more stressful for James than him. The alpha spent Sunday being almost religiously attentive to his omega, to the point where the quartermaster was carried to the bathroom the instant James saw him blanch at the scent of mustard.

Eventually, Q felt the need to address his mate’s stoicism. He worked up the courage when the alpha had made a third fruit cocktail for him topped off with whipped cream. 

“James,” He hedged carefully. “Everything alright?” The alpha smiled, and Q’s expression dropped into not-impressed at the obvious sign of lie. “Spit it out.” He fiddled for a moment with the latest glass, and slid down next to Q, closing the omega’s laptop and putting it to one side, reaching to cup Q’s face with both hands, thumbs rubbing sharp cheekbones. His blue, blue eyes were endlessly sad, Q could guess why, but hated seeing his mate in pain, wished he hadn’t had to tell him just to spare this suffering. It took him a moment to speak, frown eating his words.

“Q, are you happy?” Q’s heart clenched so much that speech was nearly constricted.

“ _James_? Of course I am!” He insisted, gripping onto his mate’s shoulders, face, hair.

“This pregnancy, it hasn’t been easy on you, I don’t like you hurting.” Q closed his eyes and took James’ hands in his own, kissing them before pressing them to his belly. When he could find the words and open his eyes again, he met James’ own desperately hopeful expression.

“I wouldn’t change this for the world, and I hope you know better than to ask about yourself.” James just nodded, and Q frowned, trying to find a way to break through, couldn’t quite believe that he was the one managing to handle this. Handle anything! Usually it was him freaking out and James sellotaping him back together better than before.

“I’m happy,” Q insisted, the words sounding desperate through the calm, reaching to stroke his mate’s face. “God, James, I’m so happy sometimes I think I might burst from it… And its down to you, you know… that’s all thanks to you.” The sliver of hope was back in his mate’s eyes, and Q smiled at him, grateful for the connection. “I know I might get stressed and complain, and I didn’t want this all to come out now… or at all really, or, I don’t know…” He trailed off and kissed James instead, first quickly, then deeper. “Please, just ask, if there’s anything you want to know just ask, I’ll tell you unless its too hard to answer, but I’ll always give you something, I don’t want this to get in the way because we can’t talk about it.” James took his face again, stroking over his features, worked up courage.

“Do I need to watch out for anything?” The question was hard, painful to know it was necessary as much as it hurt to hear. Q shook his head, gulping.

“No, I never hurt myself.” James grabbed Q’s arm gently and rolled back his sleeve to show all those nasty little bite wounds, mostly scars so old that they were undetectable as teeth, one standing out stark and red from Q’s latest fit.

“And this?” Q grappled with the words.

“Its not… It was never intentional, but I can’t be sure I’ll never do it again, its only stress… I can’t be sure,” James kissed him quiet in understanding, of course, he would know about helpless behaviour. Q was hardly the only one here who’d experienced torment, James had lived through torture.

“It’s a lot to take in, I know, but please, I got myself better, I don’t dissociate anymore, not to that extent, my work and you and my family, they’re all connected now more than they ever were. That’s a good thing.” He realized it as he said it, slight surprise coating his tone, eyebrows rising. “Its probably what I needed.” James sat and watched him, trying wonderfully to fathom the events that had led them here, trying to understand his mate’s frame of mind. Q sighed and shook his head, meeting those icy blues again.

“I know it might seem unbearable, and I’m not sure I wont act out again like I did with both of them… But please, don’t see me as something I used to be. I came to you like this, and I don’t expect it all to be okay for you, but… But I love you,” James smiled despite the somber mood, face crinkling in that endearing way that only happened for Q, and the omega looked down at his stomach contemplatively, resting one hand there and pressing slightly. “And as for this, well, I’d be mad and lying if I said I didn’t love this too.”

He met James’ clearing eyes, the blue brilliant in the sun, and relaxed, his posture settling with a smile… There seemed to be a large pressure lifted from his body and mind. Gone now that James was shouldering it with him, maybe one day brushing it off his back completely as they both became used to knowing. For now, he felt relief.

James pulled him in and Q smooshed their faces together in messy affection that made the alpha laugh.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes.” The conviction in his mate’s voice had Q sold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you have it; all the mystery, I hope this is satisfying to a degree... And that it makes sense! I realise this is not the best written chapter in both format and hard to read content/length. I just wanted to get it all up without having this spread too far... Now I can get back to Blasty stuff with a side order of Holmes and Alec xD Woo!  
> I might start sllooowwllyyy writing snippets from the Holmes brothers pasts', in both an attempt to make it make more sense, and also just for plain fun. If I do, it will be posted as another story...not sure if I will but I'll let you guys know :3
> 
> So, I'm going to be making an effort to CONTAIN chapter length from now on. 4,000 words is enough! NOT 7,000! Bad brain!
> 
> ...We'll just wait and see how well that goes. ;D
> 
> Well hope you enjoyed, and I should be getting chapters up a bit quicker now, so that's good news! Thanks for reading! n_n


	18. H0: Just one week to go; H1: Please God let the trimester end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo hoped to get this up sooner but had a minor block, all sorted now!
> 
> ...I'm sure I had more stuff to say but I can't really think of it! xD  
> ...Go Murray? ;P

James could admit that he was still processing Q’s history. And every time the Darth Vader theme rang through on his mate’s phone: heralding Mycroft, he had to suppress a shudder.

It was only too easy to imagine a young, free and only half-joking Q programming the specific ring tone. He could only wonder what Sherlock’s would be.

Yet, he remembered easily Q’s voice realizing that integrating the facets of his life was necessary. James could understand such a need, and more than that was prepared that it wouldn’t be an easy ride.

But he was going to stick it through.

It was hard to imagine Q as anything other than happy and healthy; it hurt to. But he could remember, maybe even better than Q who had a runaway mind as it was, that he had seen at least a bit of Q’s dissociative nature.

The illness after Q’s mate-call heat had left him not just tired but slightly retreating, something more fragile than the confident omega he had come to know. At the time he hadn’t thought about it beyond fatigue, but now it made sense.

He had maybe nearly experienced that again in Sherlock and John’s flat, and certainly seen the frustrated rage when Mycroft had set Q off at the doctors. He’d heard about that from Alec too… Alec who had picked up quicker more than James had maybe wanted to.

Rather than worry, it set James guidelines, markers. He knew what it took to push Q towards breaking point. And he knew that it was a lot.

The agent also recognized that not once in any episode had Q tried to dissociate from him.

As long as James knew that Q responded normally to positive interaction, he knew that he wouldn’t need to worry, because he would never hurt Q. The day Q couldn’t differentiate kindness from cruelty, James would know there was something seriously wrong.

But Q let him dote and let him fuss, getting only mildly annoyed at James constantly being under his feet on Sunday evening. The alpha knew he could trust Q at his words; he was better. He was going through some rough encounters of things far closer to home than he had been in years, but he was coping.

Flourishing, even.

Apparently Sherlock had called whilst James went to get air on Saturday evening, and Q had managed both that and the subsequent curiosities from Mycroft on Sunday with tolerance and slight affection.

James still held Q closer than normal through Sunday night, and stayed most of Monday in his omega’s office. But Q was relaxed and free of the weight he’d been carrying since Mycroft rang that first time.

When the agent admitted to both Alec and Eve, separately, that he had met Q’s family the news had been greeted with not the jests he expected. Both had whistled at the idea of older, protective and crazier Q’s, not that James had shared the details, but after had been strangely positive.

“That’s good, family’s important, just show ‘em whose boss and always side with Q.” Alec advised. James was sure that the other alpha was still suspicious, but could tell he genuinely meant the words. “It’s all pack isn’t it? If you can be the same pack, everybody’s better off.”

“They’ll have to meet you too then.” James had joked back, and received a dark chuckle.

“I look forward to it.” He decided that maybe it was too soon to let the two sides at each other.

Eve meanwhile had been uplifting in her own right.

“I’m sure you’ll be fine, new families bring people together, and even if not, you’ve got a family of your own on the way.”

The thought was rather comforting, and as James curled Q to him on Monday night, he stroked the swell of their pup and let his mind be calmed whenever Q mumbled in his sleep, knowing that somehow, he’d gotten something unbelievable in life.

Whatever had happened in both their pasts, they were together and solid in their dedication to each other.

James could ask for nothing more than that… apart from maybe more impressive nesting skills to wow Q with. He wasn’t used to being defeated by bedding.

 

-00Q00-

 

The symptoms were beginning to get under Q’s skin. Well, they were already under there, but that was hardly the point.

His chest was still sore. Male omegas didn’t swell and produce as much milk as females, but they did make some. Little and often, was what his research claimed. And apparently it made you sensitive to the slightest of touches. All James had to do was wrap an arm around Q’s chest and he’d be yelping and slapping the alpha off. If anyone, infrequently, bumped into him at work it was like a kick to the groin. Nearly. Close enough to be avoided at all costs, especially since poor tender Blasty was not far from the area of impact and growing gently.

By Tuesday, Q was thirteen weeks pregnant, and Blasty was over eight centimeters. That was incredible to both him and James.

“That’s big enough to see.” James remarked, wonderstruck as they both examined Q’s stomach closely.

“Yes… Although as the head is currently half the size of the body it might be best to leave it a while longer yet.” James had laughed and kissed his stomach, a truly endearing trait that never failed to make Q smile.

However, having a foetus that would fit in his palm steadily growing inside him had its down sides.

Love and cherish carrying James’ pup though he did, Q was rabidly counting down the days until the first trimester ended and he could welcome the second. By all accounts and references the second trimester was by far the most pleasant. Q intended to enjoy that while it lasted, even if he was a bit concerned about quite how quickly things seemed to be progressing.

He had brought absolutely no books on child care, largely due to fear at what he would find, and had a definitive lack of first hand experience to call on in that regard.

Unfortunately, the same was true for James. Fortunately, that made him feel better.

Q vowed to rectify the situation when he was feeling better, because right now he was at the end of his tether.

The vomiting, whilst no worse, wouldn’t let up. James was steadfast and wonderful at home, seeming to understand when Q wanted his back rubbed and when he wanted retch miserably on his own. At work it was just frustrating.

Nowadays Q could usually make it to the bathroom in time, but he had seen far too much of the MI6 toilets since pup sickness commenced and it was beginning to get more than a little tiresome.

“Next trimester, just six days, six days and it will start to stop.” Q repeated in a mantra whenever he got particularly annoyed. James had taken to leaving countdown post-its whenever he came into branch.

In between his trips to the bathroom and hunting down anything that smelt even vaguely cheesy, Q had to suffer a rather embarrassing side effect.

“James?”

_“Yes Q?”_

“Need you to get something for me. I can’t leave or I’d do it, but I’m directing 002 in five minutes. Sorry.” James, of course, being the utterly perfect specimen that he was, leapt at the chance to do something for his omega.

 _“Not a problem, what do you need?”_ He sounded entirely too practical and happy. Q mumbled awkwardly into the phone, flush covering his cheeks.

“New underwear. And trousers. And… we may have to go shopping later.”

 _“…Is everything alright?”_ Q’s flush deepened. James probably thought he had wet himself in an entirely different way, or that he was bleeding, either would explain the worry. He took a breath and put on his most professional tone, despite the fact that nobody else would ever, ever, hear this conversation. Ever.

“Increased discharge. It’s a symptom for the foreseeable future apparently. I’m wet.” James’ instinctual sniff over the line was enough of a give away of just what he thought about that, but he reacted without a whisker out of place.

_“Understood. I’ll be twenty minutes.”_

“Thank you.” Q managed primly, and hurriedly disconnected the call before he could die of shame. Of all the people in the world, he knew James would never judge him for this, would understand completely and not bat an eyelash… But that didn’t mean it wasn’t hideously embarrassing all the same.

Q was quite lucky and had only had to worry about this happening during heats, when it was meant to, but there were some omegas he’d met that weren’t so fortunate. Thankfully through them, and some hasty Internet searches, he knew that there were… _things_ which could be brought to help.

James turned up bang on time and stalked into the room with barely contained possession, eyes pinned on Q. Q daren’t move even a little, he completed directing 002 through a bout of computer bugging and shut off all communication, tapping his fingers antsily on the desk.

“Here,” James broke the silence and came close, sitting on Q’s desk and opening the bag for him to see. The omega was relieved to notice that James had the foresight to pick trousers similar enough to the ones he was already wearing so as to not cause distraction.

“Thank you.” Q replied stiffly, and took the bag, looking out the glass front of his office to ascertain if it would be worth going to the bathroom for this. Too many eyes would surely snap up. With a sigh he commanded the windows opaque and stood up. James’ eyes widened almost comically at the sight.

“You really are wet.” Q sighed again, and begun stripping off the trousers that had damped right through to the chair, feeling distinctly unsexy even if James was busy inhaling his scent.

“Down.” Q commanded when James reached out slowly to hold his thigh. Reluctantly and with a pout he retracted.

Luckily work finished in an hour, Q could stand for that long and the chair would dry overnight, but he couldn’t walk out of his branch smelling, and looking, like that.

Shimmying into clean boxers and trousers Q rolled up the others and stuffed them into an airtight bag from his desk, shoving that in the one James had brought.

“So, shopping?” James asked lightly, some amusement in his voice that Q was just about willing to appreciate.

“Shopping.” He confirmed with feeling.

James returned at six to escort him tightly from the building, apparently feeling doubly protective now that his mate was not only pregnant but readily wet. After a humiliating foray into Boots that featured far too much choice for Q’s liking, the alpha proudly paid for Q’s stack of underwear liners despite his protests. Smiling all the time in a pleased way that made Q want to punch him a little.

In the evening James showed just how happy it made him for Q to be slick everywhere.

It helped more than a little.

 

-00Q00-

 

Dealing calmly and placidly with Q’s struggles was something of a challenge, even for a trained MI6 agent. Truthfully, he had been relieved when Q’s latest symptom seemed to be wetness as the alpha stood the greatest chance of turning this into a positive affair.

However, by Friday morning, he could tell that Q was sore, tired, and definitely not in the mood. Not that the omega was being antagonistic, but he was walking around the flat wearing a blanket. A pretty sure fire sign that Q was seeking comfort was when the nest moved with him.

Consequently, James had the enjoyment of watching a turtle-like Q try to accomplish morning routines. When the quartermaster finally tried to settle back in bed, the alpha gently steered him away and to the kitchen table instead.

“Alright, I’m up.” Q accepted defeat gracefully and lowered the blanket, James immediately latched on around Q’s waist to stroke his stomach. He couldn’t cease marveling at the slow but undeniable sight of his pup growing inside Q. Maybe it was a hindrance when his mate was attempting to organize cereal, but it was a sacrifice James was willing to make.

“Getting bigger, Q.” James purred, voice nothing but a wealth of pride and passion.

“I’d noticed.”

“Wonder how big you’ll get?” Q chuckled in a huffing way and deftly reached back to offer James a spoonful of cereal. He wrinkled his nose but accepted the morsel anyway. Cereal, in James’ opinion, was hardly the breakfast of champions.

“…What do you think Blasty will be?” Q ventured after a pause, abandoning his cereal to watch James’ hands on his belly. The curve fit nice and snugly within one of the alpha’s hands, just starting to require the edge of his other hand to encompass fully. He measured Q’s growth with his hands, and considered their pup held safely within his mate.

“What do you think love?”

“I asked first.” Q pointed out, poking James in the thigh. James frowned. He really had no idea; it wasn’t really something he had worried about so much.

“I don’t know.” Q huffed in amusement, not unkindly.

“Boy, girl? Alpha, beta, omega? Anything?” James ducked to kiss Q’s neck, there was a certain block in his brain that had always stopped him from imagining impossibilities. He just didn’t want to jump to conclusions, or start hoping, or think too much on that. Just keeping Q safe and healthy was a full time occupation at the moment, and James had never been too prone to thinking about futures that he had no control over, proof of reaching or hadn’t thought he’d deserved. It had gotten him into trouble in the past, and though Q brought it out of him, he, somewhat surprisingly, wasn’t ready to assume for a foetus.

That hurt him a little, thinking that Q deserved him trying harder to fantasize about this, theorize with him… but it was just too early for James. He tried to think of a way to phrase a reply that wouldn’t sound callous or uncaring.

“Right now… I just want healthy and safe.” Q hummed in agreement and James smiled a bit as he continued, lips moving against his mate’s skin. “Though I realize that doesn’t help with the decorating ideas.” Q snorted.

“Decorating what? We can hardly keep the poor pup in the corridor.” James raised his head to look around their flat.

“I’d been wondering about that. Maybe when you’re feeling better we should start looking around for houses.” Q sighed and leant back a bit into James to look around too, hands tracing the contours of the counter.

“I like this flat.” He murmured regretfully. “It has all of my best memories here.” He admitted, looking all around swiftly before ducking his head with a deep breath.

“We’ll take them somewhere new.” James encouraged. “I’ll miss it too, I claimed you here.” His voice turned into a possessive growl at the end, breathing in Q’s scent with a smirk. Q chuckled.

“Yes, I remember.” The alpha hummed in a satisfied manner and kissed Q on the cheek before stepping away. Q turned round to watch him, smirking happily.

“So, second trimester?” James finalized, Q rolled his eyes with an emphatic nod.

“Second trimester.” He confirmed and turned around. “Please God let it come soon.” James watched with fond amusement as Q turned to look down at his stomach. “And you, Mr. better bloody well behave until then.”

“Shh love, no swearing in front of the baby.” Q stuck his tongue out, and James reached out lightning sharp to grab the pink tip teasingly until Q made an ungraceful noise of protest and flapped at his laughing mate.

 

-00Q00-

 

Work on Friday had rolled around with another despised bout of vomiting. Q had been feeling dizzy again, and had willfully remained seated all day apart from slow moves down to R&D and back up, inspecting work. Inexplicably his branch seemed to have taken on the unspoken agreement of feeding their boss. Each day there was some new snack on his desk that either proved delicious or nauseating. There must be some spreadsheet in circulation somewhere, because the snacks that made Q throw up or even turn slightly green were never presented again.

“In terms of the offerings left on my desk.” Q begun at the end of his Friday lunchtime meeting with the whole branch, every techie and researcher leaning on a desk or pulling up a chair, watching their boss standing and leaning back against a perch-worthy desk that had his finally decided new R sitting at it. There was the sound of munching and occasional comments whilst Q addressed the progress of the week and missions for the weekend, since he wasn’t at work between Friday to Monday and was keen his branch be comfortable in their tasks.

The omega swallowed some more of the ridiculously spicy and delicious Thai noodles Mycroft had sent over last night in handy portable containers.

“Whilst I appreciate your generosity, please don’t put yourselves out any more pennies, as I will undoubtedly get too fat to fire my own guns.” One hand rose in the back, Mindy who had been the first person to enlighten Q about his pregnancy right at the beginning. She’d proven more competent than he had initially given her credit for, though she still flapped in a crisis.

“But sir, what if we want to?” Q blinked, and was swiftly surprised at the myriad of voices that rose with similar comments.

“It’s in aid of science!” One of his most vigorous developers put in.

“My mother always said that extra padding helps protect pups.” Suggested another programmer who actually did have spots to go with his specks.

“We’re all one big pack here boss.” R piped up from beside him with Cheshire-cat grin.

“We’re investing in the future!” Exclaimed one of his more energetic logistic ladies with a shock of pink hair.

“Am I to believe you consider mine and James Bond’s pup as a worthy successor of British Intelligence?” Q clarified with a steady voice, the grins and giggles around him from such usually stoic technicians was all he needed to know. “Ruddy excellent.” He commented vaguely, wondering whether between his branch, M and Sherlock he wasn’t going to have poor Blasty pup-snatched for special training and experimentation the day the poor thing was born. Q turned and headed back into his office. “Meeting adjourned.” He dismissed, feeling amusedly fond of his ridiculous branch.

Of course, he should have known that being the head of a branch made up of betas and omegas would form a protective pseudo-pack intent on ensuring a healthy pup to ridiculous lengths.

“Prepare for double oh five’s return and double oh one’s arrival in Iceland tonight.” He called to the office as a whole, hearing lunch being packed away or moved back to desk drawers. Q didn’t take issue with food and drink at work; his staff knew that crumbs and water damage would be forgiven only with the guillotine, and consequently guarded their equipment with their lives.

 

-00Q00-

 

“Q! Your phone’s ringing!” James called into the bathroom, hearing the shower going. He had just got back from some advanced underwater combat lessons with his recruits at the seaside. It was Sunday and he’d been loathe to leave Q alone for the night, but the omega had had to work late on Friday and claimed to just want to sleep rather than venture down to the beach for a couple of days, despite the warm weather. Besides, it wouldn’t do for anyone not quite at double oh level to know who the real Q was.

“Who is it?” Came the muffled shout as Q evidently poked his head around the shower door. James didn’t have to look at the phone to know.

“Mycroft.” He replied loudly. Hearing Q groan audibly and smiling.

“Either turn it off or answer him. I’m not getting out.” James heard the door close again and grimaced as he picked up the phone.

Really, curiosity would be his downfall.

“Mycroft.” He addressed after answering the call.

 _“James. Well I might have known, five on a Sunday and you’ve been out of town? Aster must be in the shower.”_ Sometimes, Q’s relatives were just too damn creepy. _“Probably so that you don’t know he’s been in his pyjamas all day.”_ Mycroft continued rather dryly, evidently unimpressed with his youngest brother’s slovenly habits.

“I happen to find the trait charming.”

_“No doubt you do.”_

“What can I do for you, Q’s refusing to be moved until he’s soap-free.” Mycroft sighed heavily.

_“No matter, either of you will do. I’ve organized a cleaning service to arrive in approximately six minutes and top to tail the house. It was distinctly lacking in cleanliness when I visited a week or two ago.”_

A true lack of brain function seemed to grip James. Gradually, he managed to reinstate professionalism.

“There’s no need for that.”

 _“I insist. Nothing but the best Bond, now, do take my brother out somewhere nice for the evening, a bespoke should be arriving for him imminently. You may manage to dress respectably but Aster’s wardrobe is I’m sure full of nothing except his loathsome cardigans.”_ Well, at least he had impressed Q’s brother by wearing suits. James would take what victories he could get. Still, he was struggling between humor and confusion at the bizarre call.

“You do realize he’s pregnant-“ A long-suffering sigh put a stopper in his words.

 _“My dear James, please do not insult my intelligence. Pregnancy suits can still be bespoke. I expect to hear that you’ve dined somewhere appropriate, send my love to my brother.”_ With that Mycroft rang off and James stared at the phone for a moment before Q stepped out, towel wrapped around his waist and hair pushed out of his face.

“What did he want?” James finally put the phone down a tad carefully.

“Apparently I’m to take you out tonight whilst the house is cleaned. You’re to wear the suit that will be delivered any moment now.”

“What?!” Q barked, clearly just as blindsided as James. Any further inquiry was halted by the doorbell, two pairs of eyes flexing over there disbelievingly.

Indeed, it was a suit, followed four minutes later by a cleaning crew with credentials that included a certain palace and expressions that looked a mix of alarmed and determined at their surroundings. Unfair really, their flat was hardly a bombsight, although maybe there was more fluff here and there than they were used to. Both of the pair were rather clean people really through a mix of military training and electric safety, not to mention their shared attention to detail. Still, maybe there were some things in the back of the fridge that both alpha and omega were only too happy to delegate the removal of.

Marooned in the bedroom until they could leave the house, James watched Q donning the bespoke suit, not even trying to hold back his predatory glaze. The omega himself looked adorably bemused by the gift, mumbling at each different aspect even though he clearly knew exactly how to put one on.

Slender fit shirt, dark trousers cut perfectly and deceptively catering for Q’s bump, green tie that brought out a flash of colour in his eyes, trim cut waistcoat and a sharp jacket.

“I feel dressed up for a board meeting.” Q complained, peering at himself in the mirror and distractedly pulling at his sleeves. “Cufflinks.” He murmured, and opened the drawer on James’ side of the cabinet to hold up a pair and shake them gently. “May I.”

“Please.” James allowed, voice a rumble of pleasure as Q deftly worked the metal clasps in. “Well.” Giving himself one final once over in the mirror, Q turned to James. “What do you think?” James stood, eyes slowly dragging up and down Q’s frame.

“Positively svelte.” Q flushed and fidgeted a bit before smirking up at James teasingly.

“Svelte?”

“Deliciously.”

Later, much later, James let Q hash out a quick text to his brother before being pulled into their very clean bed.

_-Thank you for the suit My. Impeccable taste as ever. James wants to rebook the cleaners for morning.-_

The alpha rumbled with laughter along with Q and swiftly striped him of the exquisite material.

 

-00Q00-

 

Monday had gone incredibly frustratingly. Q had had to send Alec off to Mongolia, of all places, and had gotten pup sick in the middle of the meeting. The alpha had been perfectly understanding and patient whilst Q took five minutes to gag into a bin beneath his desk before carrying on as if nothing happened.

006 had grinned the whole time as if witnessing a miracle. The only miracle Q could see was that his aim was as spot on as ever. And that Alec hadn’t burst out laughing in his face.

“Take care quartermaster.” Alec bid as farewell, and retreated from the branch grinning and whistling.

“Some people.” Q murmured disbelievingly, grateful beneath it all. He left a note to cut Alec into the next set of exploding pens he made for James, and then proceeded to clear up his bin. Quartermaster he may be, but there were some things it simply wasn’t civil to leave to the workforce. Swiftly he dumped the bin bag in general disposal and returned to his desk. No sooner had he sat down than R was rushing in.

“Sir, double oh one’s on the line, submarine he’s working on has been hit, he’s requesting help in repairing it.” Schematics shot through Q’s head quicker than a flash.

“Put him through.” Q commanded and lurched to his feet-too quickly.

The floor dropped alarmingly from under him as his head became nothing but a spinning vortex. There was a shout from R and a sharp crack of pain and Q was on the floor on his back, blinking dazedly up at the ceiling.

“Sir!”

“Damn,” Q winced, gingerly touching his tender head, tried to sit up and crashed back to the ground in more dizziness. Q cursed, closing his eyes to R’s panicked face and snapped his fingers. “Get me the laptop!”

“But sir you’re-“ Q’s eyes flashed open.

“Do I look like I’m in a position to care? Get me the laptop. It isn’t that difficult to work from ground level.” R, clearly feeling out of his depth, simply complied with the order, handing over the laptop.

“Good now put that call through and stand by.”

R followed the first command, and took the other one literally by standing by Q. 001’s stats flashed onto the screen and Q picked up the call, opening windows to help get the information needed.

 _“Q!”_ 001’s emphatic voice sounded over the line, Q slid himself backwards until his head was resting on the mattress kept in his office and interrupted as he remotely surveyed the damage.

“First thing’s first double oh one. Tell me you’ve got soldering equipment.”

_“Would I lie to you Q?”_

“I should hope not.”

_“Then no.”_

“Excellent.”

 

-00Q00-

 

James was alerted to the situation by R, who explained that Q had gotten dizzy and ‘had a fall’, but appeared otherwise fine and was currently directing 001 through a particularly tricky submarine leak repair.

He had to admire the man’s bravery, but the message had been sent by email so he also clearly wasn’t a complete idiot when it came to double oh wrath.

Now he was torn between having to trust R; who he didn’t when it came to Q’s health, and being respectful of the fact that 001 was in a tough situation and needed the support that apparently only Q could give.

It didn’t help that his own hormones had been sent out of whack by Q’s pregnancy, and hearing that his mate had _fallen_ set off all his alarm bells.

In the end, James resorted to go down and linger.

He walked into Q’s office long enough to meet the omega’s gaze as he kept rapidly talking to 001. There was a bruise on his head, not extensive and the skin had only broken slightly, and the fabric of his blue cardigan was damaged around the elbow. Nothing indicated harm to the stomach, and he smelt healthy. James had to force himself to turn around and leave, commandeering a desk outside the glass office and leaving R in there to watch whilst he controlled his breathing.

The image of Q lying on the floor, head propped and laptop resting just above where his bump started should have been a pleasant one, not because he had fallen over.

Still, he was at least glad to see that Q was being sensible about the whole affair finally, and lying down when he needed to… even if it were due to inopportune circumstances.

James eventually gestured to R to call him. It didn’t suit him, but he knew staying around an injured Q for long enough would eventually cause him to snap and do something reckless that would endanger 001. Who was a friend… 

That, or he would distract Q with his protective pheromones.

Neither reaction would be appropriate or beneficial, and James had to remind himself that whilst his loyalty to Q was unbreakable, so was his passion for his country; and thereby MI6.

He was nothing if not a professional agent. He could control himself.

Deciding that working off some steam was in order, James ventured down to the gym and spent a good forty five minutes working out arduously before he got a call from R. Eyeing the time; 6:13, James was glad that he could just take Q straight home… possibly after a sojourn to medical.

“Fourteen weeks tomorrow.” The alpha reminded himself, more than ready for his mate to breach the second trimester and have an easier time of it.

Back in Q branch, the attitude was notably calmer, though they all seemed to be hovering to see the upright whites of their boss’ eyes before completely relaxing.

James walked right into Q’s office to find him closing his laptop and putting it aside with a sigh of relief.

“All okay?” James ventured, easing into a casual desk-lean with a smile as he took in the relaxed posture of his mate. Q blinked open eyes and raised his brows.

“Sub fixed and mission back under way. Considering I’ve never talked someone through welding a leak before I think it went rather well.” James smiled with a twitch of amusement. Q looked up and smiled with self-exasperation. “Certainly never done a mission from the floor before.” James grinned and moved forwards, Q sat up to meet him and James saw the omega huff and waver with eyes fluttering, reacting in split seconds to catch his mate as the man went limp temporarily.

Q groaned and clung onto James.

“Thank you. Why the hell does this have to be so damn hard?” James helped him sit up but instead of allowing Q to stand moved him with gentle nudges and firm support back onto the mattress properly, leaning him against the wall.

“You’re growing a pup Q, it’s hard work.” James reminded calmly as he set Q soundly in position. The omega sighed, and then began huffing out a stressed laugh, eyes still closed he held up his arms as if in surrender or plea.

“Can you be pregnant for me?” He requested, laughing at himself even whilst whining a little, cracking open eyes at the end. James kissed his forehead and stroked his hair back.

“But you’re doing it so beautifully, falling over all over the place and forgetting to eat.” Q swatted him gently.

“I don’t forget to eat anymore.” He cast an imperious eye down at his stomach. “Your father’s insinuating that we can’t function, not that you’re being particularly helpful in that endeavor.”

“Come on, home.” James commanded, and slowly eased Q to his feet, thankful that he did little more than sway.

“Tomorrow things will start getting better, just one more day, I can manage one day.” Q muttered to himself as he straightened. James escorted him calmly in the direction of medical, privately thinking the same thing whilst he patted Q’s belly gently and leaned down.

“Try not to make Mummy faint on the way home.”

“Please stop encouraging that word.”

“Shant.”

“You’re recalcitrant.” James just grinned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now, don't worry, I know that pregnancy symptoms don't suddenly 'switch off' come the day of the second trimester! hehe but they're counting down till the start of easier times anyway ;3  
> I do know nothing about fixing submarines...hence why Q's calls always tend to cut off before details are needed xD
> 
> The next few bits of the story might gear a bit more towards 00Q preparing a bit more for having a pup. (house, learning things, Blasty stuff etc) and will feature quite a bit of the Holmes crew and Alec & co. Now that life will get a bit easier for Q I think that's how this will play out... but for those who love some drama, I'm sure that I'll be squeezing more in, but maybe not quite so full-on for a bit! ;3  
> If anyone has any suggestions/first hand knowledge then feel free to pile it on! The format is a bit fluid from now until the next Big Event.
> 
> Thank you all for being so AMAZINGLY supportive and funny and I hope you're all having some sunshine love wherever you are! ;D


	19. H0: Summer and family go together; H1: Heat waves and the Holmes book of bonding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...So much for (potentially) quicker updates! I'm sorry its a bit late guys.  
>  Apparently though the weather is gorgeous, and I'm having a great time working at a wildlife centre (despite narrowly avoiding a badger mauling; the adorable little fluffs) some people will still just get on your nerves and disrupt writing-flow. C'est la vie!  
> Hopefully things will be a bit smoother now n_n

Heat waves were not what James wanted whilst his mate was fourteen –pushing fifteen- weeks pregnant. Q branch was a well air-conditioned place, there were no problems at work… at home however, things were different.

Summer had struck fully on August 8th, coating England in a blistering, burning heat as Blasty hit 10 cm in length.

Pasty Brits were soon appearing radioactive… and Q had never been that upset by heat, but apparently pregnancy was throwing his body out of whack whilst the temperature climbed steadily towards 30 degrees Celsius.

“Why is it so fucking hot?!” Q complained loudly as he burst into the flat. James had tried to insist that he stay inside, but apparently missing the Q branch seasonal dinner out was tantamount to treason for the quartermaster.

James dropped his paper and rose as Q fought off his t-shirt, shoes and trousers, hair clinging to his forehead in damp swirls and sticking up at erratic wavy angles.

Q planted a smooch to James’ lips in passing, and then slipped by into the bathroom and stuck his head under the shower with a groan of relief.

That had been the start of it, and since then things had only gotten worse.

James tried to shield his mate from the heat best he could; but there was really no escape. Q brought fans, many many fans, and attempted to enhance them. However, as the heat was muddling his brain James was mostly left clearing up the tattered and decimated remains of the objects from the floor before Q’s pack of vacuuming bots could get stuck on the debris.

Saturday found Q lounging barely dressed on the bedroom floor beside the huge cast open windows, panting in an increasingly sweaty heap. James wasn’t enjoying the oppressive warmth too much either, but he could easily cope: he’d been to places far hotter. Mostly, he was worried about Q.

“Can I get you anything?” He asked from where he was leaning against the wall, having the advantage of being able to sip on cool beer whilst Q guzzled his own weight in water. The omega shook his head loosely.

“Nuh uh.” James frowned and crawled over, laying beside Q, watching the rise and fall of his panting chest, the sweat on his brow over closed eyes. The alpha curled a hand around the condensation of his beer bottle and reached out to place it on Q’s stomach. The man groaned feebly and opened his eyes to offer James a smile. Beneath his hand Q’s belly was no longer a small bump, rather a distinctive swell that James had to use two hands to cover completely. He added another cooled hand to Blasty’s cocoon. The skin beneath was burning.

“You’re too hot love.” Q shrugged a little and breathed out long and slowly, turning his head back to the breeze of the window in another doze. James, frowning, pressed a lingering kiss to his temple and got up.

His search of the fridge and freezer revealed nothing of use. Not even peas.

Alec was out of the country. Eve was at work… James was left with the two uninspiring choices of Mycroft or Sherlock… Or…

It was hardly a challenge for James to find where Q had scrawled John Watson’s phone number, underneath Sherlock and Mycroft’s. James didn’t know how his mate had discovered it, but he wasn’t surprised.

He dialled, and waited for the inevitable pick up.

_“It say’s JB on my phone though I’m sure I’ve never programmed your number in.”_

“Perk of knowing the quartermaster.” James grinned down the phone. In the background he heard a mild scuffle and the dulcet tones of Sherlock Holmes.

_“What’s he saying John? Is it interesting?”_

_“No, look, get off! Go…play your violin-“_

_“But I’m bored John, bored!”_

_“Yeah and I’m on the phone!”_ James cleared his throat loudly and halted the bickering.

 _“Sorry, what was it you wanted?”_ John re-focused, getting a hold of the situation.

“I was wondering if you had any cooling packs lying around.” There was a thoughtful pause.

_“Erm no, no I don’t think so, why?”_

“Q needs them.”

_“What does he need?”_

_“Sherlock, stop, trying, to- oh for god’s-“_ John’s voice got quieter as Sherlock took over the phone. It was, as James feared; you couldn’t talk to one without the other knowing.

 _“What has happened to my younger brother?”_ James spared an eyebrow to raise in vague appreciation of the truly deadly tone down the line before replying with deadpan.

“He’s hot.”

 _“Pregnant, of course he would be. I trust he’s dozing? Can’t get cool? Must be like his heats in summer. Put him in a cool bath until we get there.”_ James failed to disguise his confused face as in the background Watson spluttered and noisily caught the phone.

 _“Yep. Apparently we’re coming over. Not bad advice though, see you soon.”_ With that the call was dropped and James stood for a moment blinking before snapping the phone shut and moving into action. He ran the bath just slightly cool, not wanting to shock his pregnant mate too badly, and let it fill before going back to Q.

The omega flailed a bit at being lifted in warm arms and cursed a blue streak in surprise as James deposited him gently in the tub.

“Jesus _Christ_ James!” Q grabbed the edges of the bath and blinked up at him.

“Is it not okay?” James queried, hands stroking up and down Q’s flanks under the dual process of holding him in the bath. Q frowned at him slightly suspiciously.

“Have you been taking doctoring lessons from Sherlock?” James fixed his most winning smile on, and watched Q fighting the urge to smile back and blush.

“And John, he’s even got a medical license.” Q huffed a laugh and stroked James’ face before settling into the bath.

“It’s not much fun just on your own.” Q complained hintingly, and James chuckled at him.

“Be good and I’ll wash your hair for you.” He watched in amusement as Q battled with trying to appear cool whilst being offered one of his biggest pleasures.

“…Please.” James just grinned and pulled Q’s head gently backwards, scooping up water to run through his soon moaning mate’s curls.

The fact that Q reached up to do the same for James was both endearing and oddly intimate. Those talented fingers could truly turn to anything remarkably well.

The pair managed twenty pleasant minutes until the door was hammered upon. Both alpha and omega parted grumblingly.

“Asty! Open your damned elephant-proof door!” Q groaned and dropped his head back thoughtlessly, luckily having James to catch it.

“You called them over?” Q queried, clearly disbelievingly. James chose to say nothing, and instead helped Q out of the bath despite the increased banging from Sherlock and chastising from John going on outside their door. He left Q to pull on clothes, including a t-shirt this time, as if to protect Blasty, and went to get the door.

“Where is he?” Sherlock blasted past James as if he wasn’t a master assassin. John paused politely to shake hands before going after Sherlock and hissing at him to mind other people’s space.

“Oh relax, I’ve been here before.” John rolled his eyes and James grinned as he shut the door. Q appeared in the doorway of the bathroom with tousled hair and Sherlock swept upon him without heed for the disgruntled nature the omega was portraying.

“Asty.” Sherlock greeted, and Q glared half-heartedly at him, but none the less let his arms fall to the sides in a more open posture. Sherlock, surprisingly, pulled Q into a hug that looked mostly as if he was fulfilling a pre-requirement that would allow further reaction.

Q rested his head on his brother’s shoulder and still managed to give James a distinctly unimpressed quartermaster look that suggested whatever happened next was nothing but the alpha’s own doing.

James grinned, and noticed that Q’s ire didn’t really seem in it. He was, after all, hugging Sherlock back.

When they withdrew the beta snapped his fingers over at the two military men.

“John, a check over if you please.” Q begun to protest as John moved over apologetically.

“Come on now, wont take long, you know what he’s like.”

Q sighed and folded, allowing the two betas to herd him towards the bedroom. James followed, bemused at how quickly his mate seemed to accept John Watson.

Perhaps it was the man’s polite but quick nature and warm smile. Perhaps it was because Sherlock trusted the man.

“Come, lie down here. Wait! I want to measure you.” Sherlock announced, halting Q in front of the windows again and raising both hands to Q’s stomach.

James had the sudden memory of Q saying that Sherlock used to push him down as a child and took a step forwards with a barely audible warning growl. All three men in the room looked over at him. John in confusion, Q in worry and Sherlock in appraisal.

“I see you told him _everything_ then.” The beta asked his brother, making it more of a statement. Q shrugged out of Sherlock’s range and went over to James. The alpha could see a slight sweat from the heat breaking out on his head again already, and regretted being unable to control his protective hormones as much as he also relished Q coming close.

“Shh.” The omega soothed gently, near silent, and wormed himself into James’ arms, who held him tight despite the heat, eyes never leaving the apparent threat.

“Will you let him? Its okay.” Q eased, voice a gently caress below his ear as James hunched over his pregnant mate. The alpha held Q tighter in response, momentarily unable to fight his biology.

It was infuriating. But Q was hardly the only one affected by their pregnancy. James’ protective instincts had been trebled: wary of harm to Q, Blasty, and the fact that Q was vulnerable. It was also impossible to judge just when his alpha drives would flare.

“Uh, Sherlock? Maybe we should leave.” John attempted, stepping back from the likely lethal tunnel vision that the alpha had directed across the room. Sherlock, despite being hit with the full force of it, managed to look both fascinated and appraising with a challenging smirk.

“I rather think I should get the measure of the man Watson.” The beta turned slightly more face on; eyes alight with some sort of deranged pleasure. “Is it my proximity to mate combined with being in your territory? Finding it hard to take are we?” Q twisted in his arms as much as he could in the vice-like grip.

“Sherlock!” He snapped, but couldn’t get any more out before James pulled them both backwards and into the bathroom with a rapidity that made Q startle. The alpha shut the door behind himself and held Q close, breathing deeply into his hair to calm the fine-trigger muscles set on high alert.

“James-“

“Shh.” He just needed a moment, just a moment. “If I look at your brother again within the next thirty minutes I wont be held responsible for my actions.” James gritted out, hands tightening on Q. The omega paused, and seemed to spend some time gathering himself with this new information. After a while he spoke.

“He’s just trying to get a rise out of you.”

“I’m well aware of that Q. It’s working.” He felt Q gulp, tuck slightly into him. When he spoke it was with a whisper.

“You don’t have anything to worry about.” James let the words settle gently for a moment, breathing deep enough to relax fractionally, leaning back against the door.

“I wouldn’t know. I don’t know him.” Q sighed and managed to run a hand through his hair before reaching up to hold James’ head, making their eyes meet.

“That’s my fault. I should never have kept you all apart for this length of time. This is the worst possible condition for everyone to meet under.” James couldn’t find it in himself to smile.

“Knowing what I do about your family, love, I don’t think there would have been a ‘good’ time.” Q conceded that silently with a half smile and raised eyebrow. There was a moment of silence.

“Consider, if you can, that he feels protective of me too?”

“Not like me.” James bit out, crowding Q closer. “Never like me.”

“No. No not like you.” Q accepted again, a solemnity deepening his voice. “I don’t know if he’s capable of that, with me. There must be too much history for him to compute as well.” Shame crept up James’ spine and he ducked his head into Q’s neck to mouth the next words into his skin, regretful of the honesty in them.

“I don’t want to leave you alone with him. I don’t trust him with you. Nor our pup… I can’t just forget how you said he treated you when you were young.”

“We were both young, James.” Q murmured softly, sadly. James shook his head, shook in anger and regret at that anger, shook in fear that he couldn’t bear to deal with at the thought of harm befalling Q or their so small, so vulnerable little pup.

“Blasty isn’t even the size of a grapefruit.” He choked out, real strain marring his voice. Q shushed low and long in his ear, soothing, stroking James’ neck. “If he, Mycroft, your father, if they could push you around at age three… Our pup wouldn’t stand a chance, he’s so small Q.” James’ heart thudded painfully loud and fast. He didn’t usually let any of this out, couldn’t risk showing the terror in him at every threat around the corner… but his life was built on realised paranoia, and to have anything even vaguely considered ‘threat’ in their own home had proven too much for all the instincts in him.

“Might be a she.” Q’s mild suggestion completely blindsided James’ brain. On the outside it didn’t show. But on the inside he was realigning automatically to deal with the sudden input.

“That hardly makes a difference Q.” James bit out, and Q pulled back and kissed him.

“I know. I _do_ James.” Q manipulated James’ tense limbs until they were linked over his stomach. “And I trust you too.” He met James’ eyes. “I trust Sherlock too.” James tried not to growl and failed. “Do you trust John?” James blinked at the question, again sidelined.

“In so much as.” He answered carefully. Of course, trust didn’t come easily for James.

“Do you trust me?”

“Yes.” He didn’t hesitate with that one.

“I would never put myself knowingly in any situation where I didn’t think our pup was safe.” James frowned.

“I know love, but-“

“I’m not asking you to accept that for gospel… I think you should be given the opportunity to work it out… without any influence you might pick up from me.” Now James shifted Q to arms length, who looked a little worried and a lot determined.

“I’m giving off so many hormones right now that a goldfish would be making deductive leaps. It might be a good idea for you to go somewhere with Sherlock and get to know him on your own terms… What do you say?” James pondered for a moment. He knew the middle brother least well, even Mycroft he could grudgingly accept as someone who would defend Q should need arise.

Didn’t trust the man anywhere near as much as Alec but that was only to be expected. Twenty years of brotherhood was akin to blood for James…

Which was the same experience Q had. And just like he trusted Alec with his mate despite the alpha’s destructive nature; Q trusted his own brothers. Knew their wrongs, knew real threat from pretend…

He also knew that at the beginning of their mating, Q would never have allowed Alec to nest with him. Something that showed a huge level of learned trust for James’ kin. Spending time with Mycroft had helped; there was no reason that he shouldn’t get to know the enemy at least.

“…Alright.” He hedged carefully… and then looked down a bit shamefaced, tucking Q’s head back under his chin rather than meet his eyes. “But I wont leave you alone in this heat either.”

He didn’t like giving Q orders, but sometimes his alpha nature just couldn’t be denied. Luckily, Q was fairly good at understanding when there were things James just couldn’t deal with.

“Well, I’d like to get to know John a bit better…” Q suggested thoughtfully. “You and Sherlock could go…food shopping or something.” James’s mouth downturned in a grimace at the idea of food shopping with Sherlock Holmes. However, he could think of one thing he wanted to get.

“Maybe there’s something we could get.” James allowed. “What will you two do?” Q shrugged, face uncertain.

“Lets go and see if they’ll even accept this for starters.”

James growled a bit, but opened the door, keeping one arm latched around Q’s waist protectively as they re-entered the room. John and Sherlock looked up from where they’d been examining one of the Roombas that was bumping repeatedly against the wall. Q made an odd, strangled noise and twitched as if to go forwards and either rescue his baby or shield it’s peculiarities from judging eyes. James had long been aware that some of Q’s cleaning bots developed learning behaviour…and not always in good ways.

Still, he stayed within the circle of his mate’s arm whilst the detective duo looked over.

“Are these… cleaning?” John asked, laugh and interest in his voice. Q nodded shortly as both betas raised their eyebrows in contemplation. “Some of them would be handy.”

“As long as they don’t mess up my shoe inventory.”

“They learn.” Q murmured shyly, defensively, fiddling his fingers. Sherlock looked vaguely interested and John impressed.

“So, can I examine you now? I even brought a tape measure.” James growled and the beta’s eyes narrowed, switching between the two.

“Oooh, you two want us all to do some bonding time first. Of course.” Q sighed, James was rapidly learning to not be surprised any more. John perked up.

“Actually, might not be a bad idea, we need groceries anyway, and a mall would be cooler for you.” John nodded in Q’s direction as James and Sherlock groaned at the same time.

“John I don’t do _shopping_.” Sherlock shuddered. “Nasty, confusing thing.”

“Its not that hard to buy milk.”

“There are too many choices.”

“Yeah and you pick one! Not get one of each to sample.”

James risked looking at Q, who met his gaze with a raised eyebrow and promptly dissolved into snorting, James grinned and chuckled. The betas didn’t seem to notice and continued until arriving at some sudden conclusion.

“Right! Settled then. James and I will go medical shopping and you two will do food, then we’ll all-“

“See a movie, excellent.” John finished as Sherlock rolled his eyes. “And food.” John seemed to consider further for a moment before pointing at Q. “And you can’t go on the tube, too hot.”

“Taxi then!” Chorused Sherlock, just as James was opening his mouth to suggest the Aston. “Did I tell you about the case with the killer cabbie, marvellous.” With a determined stride, the two led the way out. Q’s face looked as mildly horrified as James felt unable to express.

“Good god. The two of them together are like the Bloody Beta Bedlam Brigade.” James just grunted and resigned himself to swearing never to call 221b Baker Street again if his life depended on it.

 

-00Q00-

 

Q somehow found himself squashed in a taxi with his mate, brother, and brother’s ‘life partner’. It was a little surreal. James insisted on sitting opposite Q in the folding seat, Sherlock took the other and John sat next to the omega, but not before requesting the cabbie turn up the air conditioning.

It was hot. He was sweating. And tired.

Quite frankly, he didn’t have the energy to go food shopping, or out, rather preferring to melt in a puddle. But there was some excitement in him, along with trepidation, at the thought of this motley group all collected together.

Again, he was blaming hormones, but there was a bit of him _looking forward_ to the idea of having _everyone_ together. Everyone as in his own family plus extended others, Alec, Eve, Tanner…he wasn’t so sure about M, but maybe even Kincaid who James very occasionally was contacted by. To think it was even a vaguely good idea must mean the heat had addled his mind.

Sherlock was attempting to argue with John about the murderous cabbie case. James had raised an impressed eyebrow at the description of the beta’s sniper-worthy shot. Q just watched, both amazed that Sherlock had managed to stumble across someone who suited him so well; shared his love of danger, was loyal but with a backbone, impressed and stimulating, used initiative but could be trusted to carry out a request. At the same time, he was struggling to get over the knowledge that Sherlock would have swallowed that pill.

Where thrill seeking stopped for others, it began for Sherlock Holmes.

It still felt a bit strange, to be sitting with his brother again after so many years, and Q half wished that the two of them could have some time together alone, like they used to, but he could understand James’ unwillingness to allow that, and he didn’t resent it. All things considered his alpha was taking it all rather well.

Absently Q stroked his stomach and wondered, not for the first time, if he was really cut out for this. Did determination to do a better job than his own parents make him stand a chance?

James’ eyes flashed to him, and Q smiled reassuringly. He didn’t miss how Sherlock’s eyes were glued on his belly too, a degree of intensely curious desire in his eyes that was hard to analyse.

The Taxi dropped them off at a wonderfully air-conditioned shopping centre that instantly gave Q a bit more relief from the heat, a bit of energy returning to slug like limbs.

“Alright?” James questioned, squeezing an arm around Q’s waist. Sherlock was tapping his foot impatiently in the distance whilst John waited calmly for the omega in the other direction.

“Will you be?” Q countered with a raised brow. James smirked, kissed him on the cheek, and strolled to head off with the whirlwind beta.

“Ready?” John asked as Q came over, indicating towards the large food shop. The quartermaster’s inner strength quailed at the idea of doing the omega-typical role of taking care of shopping. Of course, he adored taking care of James, but they were usually a lot more fluid with the duties.

“Err, actually, I have something I wanted to do first, if that’s okay?” John, curious and calm, nodded.

 

-00Q00-

 

Just how Sherlock knew that James wanted to buy cooling packs escaped him. But maybe the signs had been obvious what with the heat.

“Here, this one looks pretty omega-encompassing.” Sherlock nearly threw a gigantic pack of cooling items over.

“Maybe if I wanted to drown him with them.” James sorted through the options until he picked out a decent looking standard selection. He knew better than most that a few well-known items often worked better than a suitcase full of tricks. Sherlock looked over at him appraisingly.

“Istanbul or Venice?” The words would have stopped James cold, except that they sent him from level 3-10 on the 007 scale quicker than a pulled gun. That only usually required an 8.

“And here I thought your brother was the hacker.” James responded, turning slowly to Sherlock. Sherlock half flashed a grin, eyes just as intense as Bond’s.

“Mycroft pulled your file years ago, I merely looked at it.”

“Didn’t know I had a so many admirers in the family.” James turned back to head to the paying point, and the lack of confrontation seemed to rise Sherlock’s ire. Inside, James was a seething mess, but he wasn’t about to entertain some former drug-addict’s morbid curiosity. No matter whose brother he was.

“What that’s it? No threat to call six, or to stay out of your business?”

“I can do if it makes you feel better.” James replied blandly, paying for his items with a smile before leaving, a fuming Sherlock hot on his tail.

“You’re not curious why I asked?” Sherlock demanded, coming in fast to stand in front of James. Ignoring the fact that it was a spectacularly foolish move, James regarded him coolly.

“I imagine you’re trying to get a rise out of me, I can’t imagine why you feel the need. Don’t give a toss why, really.” Sherlock attempted to school his features back somewhere from indignation and razor-wire intellect.

“He’s my brother, and you-“

“Lost a lover and was considered collateral by my employer.” James’ words had rapidly lost any mirth. He let Sherlock choose the next words. The beta’s eyes flashed between his own in a flickering movement so similar to Q’s that it was eerie. The stand off stretched on for long enough that James wasn’t quite sure that it _was_ still a standoff anymore.

“Which one hurt you worse?” There was something less accusatory in the tone… something more curious. James wasn’t convinced how best to handle the situation.

“Chest shots are a nightmare on mobility.” James answered, rapidly loosing patience. “If you’ve got a question, ask it. Otherwise this will become rapidly boring.” He deadpanned. Something about the word ‘boring’ seemed to trigger a different response in Sherlock.

“You get bored?” He asked, and James’ eyebrow twitched. “No I’m not being roundabout I mean, do you get bored.”

“Right now, yes.”

“At work?”

“Occasionally.”

“At home?”

“The same.”

“With Q?” James noted the use of ‘Q’ rather than ‘Aster’.

“Rarely.” Sherlock stepped back a bit, a small smile on his face. He seemed rather pleased.

“Well, there’s something in common after all. Excellent, Aster will be so happy.” James tried to wire his mind back onto this new pathway. He rather thought that Sherlock took being bored a lot more seriously than James did… It also seemed as if he was taking ‘bonding’ lessons from a textbook.

Step one: find something in common.

This was shaping up to be a long day.

“You do realise that woman under-changed you, correct?” Sherlock antagonised, they started moving again. James flipped one of the pieces of change he’d been given carelessly.

“Good thing I paid her mostly in foreign money then isn’t it.” A surprised look, turning to slightly pleased.

“You pay attention.” He appraised with interest.

“Its not only patriotism training these days. Though I’ve been known to hum God Save the Queen at inopportune moments.” Sherlock didn’t laugh, or even really smile, but his face contorted differently and his eyes were alight.

“Aster can recite-“

“Churchill backwards word for word? Yes, he’s been thoroughly tested on that.”

“Mycroft insisted on teaching us one day.”

“…Run out of board games?”

“He’s tyrannical at Monopoly.”

“I can imagine.” That earned him a breathed smiled at least.

 

-00Q00-

 

“Baby book shopping. Hm.” John pulled a face in the background, Q’s eye flexing to note the movement briefly. “Not what I thought I’d be doing.”

“You can leave if you want, do something else.” Q replied vaguely, he really wasn’t interested in other people’s existential crises and was busy running a finger closely along the spines of the books in the frankly huge ‘pregnancy and childcare’ range.

It was overwhelming enough without having to worry about somebody else’s embarrassment. John Watson was an adult. If it bothered him he could take himself away somewhere.

“No, well, its fine. Just…thought this would be under different circumstances.” He coughed a little, and Q had to fight down the childish barb of ‘adoption?’ because that really wasn’t fair. The good doctor had suffered a lot and withstood a lot for Sherlock and clearly they were spectacular as a team. He didn’t deserve Q being a hormonal snot about the whole thing…

Really, it was more the insinuation and stigma of ‘babies’ he was despairing of. That it wasn’t ‘masculine’ for someone not omega or female to be seen in this section.

“Please don’t be bored on my account. I’m a trained head of department with more trackers on me than you could possibly imagine, I can defend myself a little. Feel free to peruse another section at least.”

“No, no this is fine.” Q finally sighed and turned around to John, straightening. He fixed a soft smile on his face.

“Look, you’re very sweet, and my brother cares for you very much, but I need these books and you’re making a miasma.” The man seemed stupefied and blinked.

“A miasma?”

“Yes.” Q frowned and fluttered his hands around his head. “You know, a miasma.” He dropped his hands with a levelled look. “It’s distracting.” The doctor started to half smile, incredulous and amused, maybe also a little scared.

“Christ you really are his brother.” Q glanced rapidly over the man and turned away.

“The miasma is descending yet further.” Sometimes, Q put it on a bit. The weirdness drove people away and sometimes that was just what he wanted. To not have to deal with people.

“Um…” John walked up beside him and scanned for a moment before tapping a spine. “That one. My alpha sister’s omega girlfriend said her omega cousin used that one in his pregnancy.” Q stared at the man. John shrugged.

“I didn’t think you-“

“I’m a beta in an alpha and omega only household with extended family and friends of the same sexes and a medical degree. You would not believe the amount of showers I get invited to.”

“Right.” Q replied a little dumbly, but he was smiling soon nonetheless. Of course, everybody wanted a beta around: the eternal pack support staff. Usually always kind and caring about other people’s health and aiding those with children, they were something of a ‘must have’ for many such social events.

Q quirked a smile.

“Remind me never to invite you to mine poor soldier.” John looked a little upset for a moment.

“N-no, no I’d love to come.” Q turned a teasing smile on him.

“Relax, if I invited you I’d have to invite Sherlock. And by extension Mycroft. And the very last thing I want is an emotional get together coinciding with a celebration of my upcoming increase in hormones…” He shuddered. “And it would mean I’d have to plan one in the first case which is hardly appealing.” Q pulled out the suggested tome to flip through and John did the same with another book, quirking an eyebrow at him.

“Really? You don’t want to do the whole celebration thing?” Q grimaced a little.

“I’m afraid I’m not a very good omega. I only mastered nesting when I was eighteen.” It felt a bit like admitting a shame and also something mildly embarrassing. Or maybe just too much information. “Uhm, no practice.” He clarified shortly, giving the doctor only a fleeting look before glancing back at the book and finding a page on hip-dislocation with a rather graphic picture. Feeling queasy he hurriedly attempted to stuff the volume away.

“On second thought, maybe ignorance is bliss.” He looked around rapidly with his rising nausea. “I wonder if they have a toilet near by?” A steadying hand fell on his shoulder and caused him to jump but calm a little.

“How about you just pick two more, and then we’ll leave, alright?” Calm, considerate, and a reasonable suggestion… it all felt very military. Q didn’t really appreciate the momentary surge of his treacherous brain thinking that John was treating him like a weakling… Dear lord the hormones had to stop!

“Right. Yes.” He hastily grabbed the suggested book plus two others on infant care into his arms and headed towards the counter.

Q steadfastly refused to give John the opportunity to offer to carry the bag for him.

 

-00Q00-

 

“That woman, with the handbag.” Sherlock announced, jerking his head in a specific direction.

“They all have handbags.” James postulated in mild aggravation. The man could name every single type of tobacco yet he couldn’t point out a woman in the crowd. Not too surprising, James supposed, knowing what little he did of the man. The detective growled and gesticulated dramatically in the direction, turning Bond to face the lady and nearly spilling his coffee.

“That one! With the green dress and the bag. Name what’s in there.” Bond had to admit he found the game rather entertaining. Sherlock Holmes had some very keen observation skills and was actually an obliviously good teacher.

“Hmm. Lipstick-“

“Yes, and how do you know?”

“She’s wearing some, and she’s a woman, well presented. Probably has a whole mini make up kit in there.” Bond assessed, sipping his drink. Sherlock eyed him.

“You missed the slight catch of it on her teeth, recently reapplied, didn’t have a mirror or would have caught the mistake.” It really was fascinating. “As a behavioural prediction though, not bad.” James smirked, the feeling seemed at least slightly mutual.

“Alright.” The agent cast around surreptitiously. “Man smoking under the lamppost. Five things in his pockets other than the obvious.”

“Nothing is ‘the obvious’ when performing deduction.”

“Not including keys, wallet, lighter or cigarettes then. Or phone.” Sherlock huffed a smirked laugh.

“Oh James, he doesn’t have a phone with him! That’s _why_ he’s waiting for his date under the lamppost!”

“How do you know he’s on a date?”

“God the _shirt_ James the _shirt_!”

 

¬-00Q00-

 

They had only gone in for some canned food, yet John was now sweating over the self-checkout, which Q had insisted they use after seeing that the elderly maternal omega on checkout was eyeing up his stomach and looked like a groper.

_“Unrecognised item in the bagging area-“_

“Yes! Alright you old hag!” John hissed, and Q frowned. He’d been scanning the least frightening parts of the pregnancy book –the bits he’d already lived through- and hadn’t been paying close attention. The man was laughing with some neurotic sort of psychosis.

“…Everything okay?”

“Yes fine! Just fine. Just me and my nemesis, facing round two.” The beta rolled his shoulders and squared up to the machine, attempting to Jedi-wave corn on the cob through the scanner.

_“Unrecognised item in the bagging area. Please wait for assistance-“_

“Oh come on you stupid-“ Q hastily tucked the book away and moved in with an amused smile.

“Here, let me.” He glanced around casually and then called up a menu on the screen. Within a minute he had machine access and had all the items bagged and paid for with the manual override. “There you go.” When he turned to hand the bags to John after ‘logging out’ he jumped a bit to find the usually calm man staring into his eyes with an almost unnerving level of intensity.

“You’re not leaving. I hope you realise that. You’re going to have to come live with us. Forever.”

Q attempted to not act quite as surprised as he felt at the obvious way into John Watson’s brand of ‘useful’. He’d take what he could get.

 

-00Q00-

 

“I’ve texted John to meet us for lunch in the food hall. Does Aster still eat anything put in front of him?”

“As long as its smothered in cheese, tastes strong and doesn’t make him sick.”

“Mexican then.” Sherlock decided, in a rather overdramatic fashion.

“Mind the guacamole.” James warned.

 

-00Q00-

 

“Sherlock wants to get Mexican for lunch. That alright?”

“As long as there’s a seat involved, I’m not picky… wait, tell him to watch the guacamole.”

“Tired?”

“Allergic.” John laughed.

“I meant about the seats.”

“I’m allergic to standing any longer.” Q informed, hefting book bag enough to push his slightly damp hair back.

 

-00Q00-

 

James saw Q and John coming and hurried to stand and relieve his omega of a bagful of books. John huffed past them and sat down, complaining to Sherlock and praising the quartermaster’s self-scan skills. Clearly Q was immensely relieved to be free of the load, and James looked on worriedly as he flopped down into a chair.

“Heavy books?” He questioned casually, Q made some non-committal noise; eyes closed, and rubbed up under his glasses.

“Might not make it to the cinema.” He responded with. James took it on board, and was about to announce that was fine, but Sherlock jumped in.

“But there’s a film about magic. We can play deduction!” James looked over to Q again for a response… and found him dozing, head tipping to the side and in danger of loosing his glasses. James reached over to rouse him gently, though the omega still startled a bit, and scooted closer to him. He coaxed Q’s confusedly slurring head down onto his shoulder and held him there.

“Do you two mind fetching the food? I’ll get our half of the bill.” John hastened up, Sherlock watched his dozing brother closely, and then James.

“It must be love if you don’t mind the drooling.” With that remark he stood and turned to help the other beta. James subtly grabbed a napkin to wipe Q’s mouth, accidentally rousing him slightly… he’d had much worse than slobber on him, but Q would probably bury his head in the sand if he’d been left to drool in public.

The arrival of burritos and therefore cheese managed to sufficiently entice Q into waking from the catnap.

Apparently, going to the cinema with two Holmes’, a military doctor and an SIS agent to watch a film about FBI, magic and heists… was not such a grand old idea. At least, for anyone else sharing the same the cinema as them.

“Of course he’s not the one behind it! Look at the way he holds the camera!”

“That skinny kid with no weapons seems to get the one-up on an impressive amount of trained agents, none of whom seem to have remembered they own guns.”

“Not to mention that all the magicians seem to happen to be highly trained stunt drivers. And that the CIA have rather pathetic technical service response.”

“Yup. That’s going to be a lot of paperwork for someone.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure this was the most interesting chapter...but Q and James can't nearly die in all of them!... Although I can't seem to get through a chapter without making Q suffer in some way! Man I'm nice xD  
> Anyway, hope you enjoyed the Holmseyness, I had fun writing it  
> Spent the last week re-reading this whole story. Spotted several grammar errors. Whoops...
> 
> Anyway hope you enjoyed and thank you for the commentos! J'adore them, and ya'll ;3 I eat them for breakfast.  
> Comments = BREAKFAST OF CHAMPIONS!!!
> 
> Also, as of this chapter WE'VE BREACHED 100,000 words! Wooo parrrrtay! *dances*
> 
> ...Oh wow, I may be heat struck! I'm off for ice lollies now... Wow this note's been random. See you all next time! Thanks for reading n_n


	20. H0: Housing practicalities; H1: the James, the Q, and the housing problems.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so late, its a little bit criminal, but I had to finish the Job Application From Hell this week, and got a biiit stressed ':D  
> Anyway, hope you enjoy n_n

The heat wave tapered to an end as Q broke fifteen weeks pregnant on Tuesday, leaving the weather heading towards an Indian summer.

James was relieved of both the respite from blistering heat and the idea that autumn might stay warm for a while. He was almost acutely aware now that Q was vulnerable to things he completely couldn’t control…though if he took the time to list all the things he considered dangerous to Q he might as well apply for a desk job.

Still, since Q’s due date fell in February James was considering that he’d have to stock up wherever they were living by then with weather protection. The last thing he wanted was Q suffering too many colds. He already got a fair few of them.

From the searches he had done winter pregnancies seemed less dangerous…but there were the added dangers of falling, and sickness as the immune system changed.

After seeing just how badly heat affected Q even in the easiest trimester, he was glad that the omega wasn’t pushing 30-40 weeks in this heat

“Mm, James!” The alpha dropped his paper and moved over to Q, who was beside the growth chart. He tapped it importantly with a pen. “Look.” James noticed one of Q’s hands resting on his belly and automatically placed one of his own there. “Twelve centimetres.”

James whistled.

“Busy pup.” Q hummed pleasantly.

“You know, apparently Blasty’s moving right now.” A jolt went through James’ spine at the words, at the somewhat wistful tone that Q couldn’t keep out of his scientific voice. The agent’s hand contracted and he searched his mate’s face. Green eyes met his gaze and offered a slightly broader smile.

“We can’t feel it yet. Not even I can… But its there, it’s happening…” their eyes met again, and Q was trying not to beam, biting his lip. “We’re really doing this.” James kissed him, long and slow as they swayed on the spot.

 

-00Q00-

 

“Q.” The omega looked up from his work to find M standing in the doorway to his office.

“Sir,” Q greeted, sitting to attention. Things were still a little bit awkward between the two of them, as if they were tiptoeing gingerly around each other. Until there was a mission, then everything because much easier as everyone slipped into automatic mode.

“There’s some things I need to discuss with you, if you have a moment.”

“Of course.” M came in and pulled up a spare chair, putting some documents down on the table as Q tapped out of his data collation program.

“We need to do a run through of Double Oh One’s submarine mishap, and I need to know what your plans are for pup leave.” The casual phrase set Q to thinking a bit.

“Um. I’m not sure yet. I wanted to go down to part time first, and then be on an on-call basis, available for phone consultations.” Mallory nodded slowly and tapped his fingers thoughtfully on the forms he’d brought down, pulling his tablet closer. Given Q’s position and benefits, not to mention the amount of time he poured into work, he was aware that he could probably get a good amount of leave if he wanted…but the idea of leaving the branch was nerve wracking.

“I want you on call…” M began carefully. “When’s your due date?”

“February fourth.”

“I don’t want you here in January. The job is too stressful and unpredictable, I’m not risking you going into pre-term labour.”

Maybe Q should be angry about being discussed without having much choice, but he had been reluctantly thinking the same thing, and knew James would blow up the building before letting him work through the last month. Plus the very words ‘pre-term labour’ had him gulping.

“Sound reasonable?” Q nodded.

“Alright.”

“Good. We’ll taper the workload throughout December, see how it plays out, we might need you to cover some of the more difficult duties in that time, get your team shadowing you, but if the stress is too much we’ll work something else out.” M fixed him a look. “Don’t withhold if you become uncomfortable, I know it isn’t an issue of competency, but you could be suffering anything from draining fatigue to annoying back pain by then.”

Q was starting to understand M better about his view on pregnancy. He’d had a mate go through it at least once, and thus was probably picturing his omega instead of Q much of the time… Not to mention the man had to protect the resource that Q was, and ensure that he came back without problems. Q had decided that as long as he was a bit more sensible about his limits, there wouldn’t be a repeat of the last time.

“So, on returning after birth. Two weeks without you being on call at all definitely.”

“Yes.” M looked at Q.

“You might not feel it now, but you’ll probably want longer when the time comes.” Q met his eyes and frowned. “I’m going to be lessening Bond’s time as well, and we’ll try to get you caught back up with any developments gradually before putting you back on advisory calls, then on call, part time, etc.” Q took a long breath and let it go.

“How long will I have?” Here M half smiled.

“We’re MI6 Q, we can bend the rules for you. I think we should just play it by ear. Bond will be coming in and reporting.”

“Okay.”

“I’d rather be able to use you sooner for one or two missions then wait to have you full time.” At that, Q breathed a sigh of relief. That really suited him much better. He couldn’t imagine trying to slot back into MI6 seamlessly if he took too long off without any contact. And there was a small, nearly subconsciously sleeping part of him that was starting to think he wouldn’t want to be without his pup.

“Alright. Good.”

“Excellent. Now, as for the submarine,”

“Yes.” Q leaned forwards as M shuffled the papers around, also calling up the mission notes from his computer.

 

-00Q00-

 

House hunting was harder than it looked. Especially since James’ workload had increased over the last week.

Not only did the alpha have new recruits to wrangle, who were going to be leaving for their first string of ‘potential double oh’ missions as soon as he deemed them ‘ready’, but also he was being drafted in as an overseer of other missions.

Sometimes this was interesting; his valuable knowledge was helping to put together some logistics and strategies that people not in-field couldn’t possibly factor in. Occasionally he was picking holes in other missions that had not had a high success rate, which was at least intriguing if often morbid. Quite a lot of the time he was involved with a slightly more tedious side of things, such as reviewing other agent’s performances, critiquing recordings from missions and M was suggesting getting him in as a ‘Listener’ to some of the agents whose missions had gone tits up and were recommended to talk it through.

James balked at the last suggestion of a job, and couldn’t help thinking that the last thing a self respecting SIS member wanted was to ‘talk it through’ with someone who had probably done it better, and clearly didn’t want them there.

“They don’t need a hand to hold, they need honesty. I needed honesty.” James admitted, recalling his early first missions where he would come back home having seen to much, and nearly be dripping bile at being force-fed more company lines. Q watched him with interest in between searching his Chinese for chicken pieces.

“You mean the truth about how their mission went? From someone here? I thought you said that agents usually know where they went wrong, and if they don’t then they’re probably too far gone for even psych?” Slightly flattered that Q recalled him word for word from a conversation they’d had after one of James’ botch-job missions, he tried to think of a way to articulate the feeling.

“No, that’s not quite it. They need something real. Its not all sunshine and puppies, its often exciting, its similarly messy, and morbid, and terrifying, and satisfying… And they need to not just be told that.” He frowned and looked up at Q’s own slightly contracted eyebrows. “When you’re hurt, and angry, and the world gives you another lesson in just why hakuna ma-fucking-tata belongs only in a Disney film, how often do you find you believe someone who tells you they understand?” Q pulled a face of knowing agreement. “You have to stumble across or find understanding somewhere by chance, you… read a book, talk to your mate, watch a film, find a friend, something.” Q swallowed, eyes clearing and pointed a chopstick at James.

“You mean you, from some source, find credible similarities and hopefully inspiration or suggestive measures to take, or at least something to help you come down.”

“Exactly.”

“But that it’s the finding it on your own that makes it count?”

“Yes.” James was rather relieved in a strange way that Q grasped so easily what was one of his central beliefs. The omega smiled and went back to his noodles.

“I can see the logic in that. Maybe you should write it down.”

“What?” James’ voice may have been slightly sharp out of fear for getting caught thinking something, realising something…wondering something…

Q just frowned at him.

“What you just said, that logic, write it down for the next time M tries to get you involved.”

“Hm.” James nodded, accepting the relief of the answer thankfully. Maybe he would consider more seriously about writing something, but he wanted it to be his own quest until he knew whether it was a good idea or not.

After all, the concept of writing down memoirs was slightly laughable in your forties. Especially since MI6 would never condone it…

Unless it was only for the purposes of training…

For now, at least, he’d keep the idea to himself.

“Are you up to seeing some houses on Saturday?” He asked instead, Q fiddled a bit.

“I’m not sure we’ll find something that’s right…” He hedged, cautiously. James shrugged easily.

“Well, we can at least rule some things off.” Q nodded in acquiescence and James let it go. He couldn’t tell if his mate was just reluctant to move or if he didn’t think they’d find anywhere good enough, but they’d cross that bridge when it came to it.

 

-00Q00-

 

One or other of them inevitably shot down each house they looked at on paper. James wasn’t quite sure what Q was looking for, but he thought the omega wasn’t exactly focusing on practicalities…

He didn’t dare say this, because he didn’t want to start a row. But it seemed like Q was searching for a feeling or something else ephemeral that would point to that house as the one.

James couldn’t entirely blame Q, after all, he was a pregnant omega, and the alpha had seen him eyeing up a cupboard weirdly the other day, and moving a member of Q branch to the back of the office. He’d later suggested to James that said woman was a toucher, although for the life of him the agent didn’t know what that meant.

On Friday, he went down to Q branch to find his mate half in a closet in the middle of the branch, his minions frantic around him and aiding their boss with whatever it was he was doing.

Mallory and Tanner entered moments later with 008 on their heels, everyone but M looking bemused. James lit eyes on 008 and lifted the corner of his lip in a slight snarl, the man sneered back to cover up any unease as the blonde alpha took up stance in front of his mate.

“Sir, where do you want the lamp?”

“On the bracket! I’ve made it simple enough.” Q muttered, clearly as oblivious as his branch to both their audience and the scene they were making.

“I’ve got the extra foam…” announced one very confused sounding employee, arms full of padding.

“Excellent, bring it here.” Q snapped his fingers quickly and M got a faint look of dread. He eyed Bond in warning of his movements before stepping forward and clearing his throat.

“Q, a word.” The omega jumped and the branch scattered. Q looked around and stood, blinking at the audience before turning to M. The alpha gestured Q a little way off and Bond headed after them with an uneasy growl rumbling his throat. However, M only leant close and whispered some words that made Q flush from cheeks to neck, ducking his head a little to nod. Mallory then beckoned James over, causing the man to frown.

“Take him home, let him nest wherever he wants.” James glared.

“I do.” M rolled his eyes.

“Then hurry up and buy a new house. I can’t have people nesting in branch, Bond.” The knowledge of just what Q had been doing was both hilarious and worrying. James turned to Q.

“Shall we?” He wouldn’t have a conversation before they were alone, and it was nearly time to leave anyway. Q gestured towards 008 and Tanner.

“Just let me collect equipment.”

“A minion can do that.”

“Bond, please, just five minutes.” Q snapped a little, running his hands through his hair and closing his eyes. “I’ll be quick.” He threw out finally, and stepped aside just enough to gesture to Tanner and 008 to follow him.

James snarled at 008 as he passed, the man jumped but glowered back without fear. Tanner called the agent to hurry up, and he did. The alpha then rounded on M, who was observing Q branch getting back to work sheepishly.

“What do you know about this?” James growled, M sighed and drew the agent off to the side.

“Its nothing to worry about, quite common, my mate did the same thing in two out of three pregnancies.” James wisely suppressed either a nose wrinkle or smirk at the thought of Mallory having three mini Mallory’s running around.

“Its just a safety mechanism, if your planning on moving flat it can be unsettling on the subconscious. He’s probably trying to find back-up safe areas. Just,” M said calmingly but with a hint of desperation, “help him get it out of his system, let him sleep in a closet at home or something if he wants, just curb it.”

James, surprisingly, got the impression that this had been M’s least favourite period of his own omega’s pregnancies, given the man’s antsy attitude. The image of M coming home and being blindsided with a hormonal, unsettled omega that had made a nest from his suits was almost too entertaining to maintain a straight face.

“Duly noted.” He smirked, and M rolled his eyes, turning to talk to a grumbling 008 as Tanner led the man out. Q grabbed his bag and headed out to meet James.

They didn’t talk until back in their own home.

“You don’t feel safe here?” James hedged, carefully. Q flinched a little.

“I can’t even explain it… I think its bolt holes again, I just want to have somewhere for every eventuality.”

“Right,” there was a slightly awkward silence for a bit until James thought of a question. “Out of interest, what do you find safe?” Q looked at him, surprised.

“In here?”

“Mmm.” Q blinked a little and smiled a bit demurely.

“Your clothes cupboard.” James grinned and they both broke into chuckled laughter. Q finally dropped his tense shoulders and stretched languidly, causing his tops to ride up just enough. “And under the coffee table occasionally.” James automatically snuck a hand to bare skin.

“Well, why don’t we test some of those theories?”

As it turned out, getting a fifteen-weeks pregnant omega out from under a coffee table was an exercise in yoga and swearing as soon as Q found that the reality wasn’t nearly as satisfying as the dream had been.

“Just lift up the damn table!”

“It might bash you.”

“Christ James I’m not that fat yet.”

“Says the man who got stuck under a coffee table.” James grunted out as he lifted the table away for Q to indignantly squirm out. Q straightened slowly with a ruffled expression and winced, bending double again to clutch around his belly with a surprised little gasp.

“Q!” James dropped the table with a thud and turned to grab Q’s shoulders, ghost hands over his waist.

“I’m fine, I’m fine, just-“ Q tried to stand up straight again but another flinch brought him hunched again a step later. “I think I pulled something.” James wasn’t fooled, he took in Q’s rapidly paling face, feeling much the same himself, and gently eased Q around and down onto the sofa.

“Do you need the hospital, is it…” James couldn’t finish the sentence, running his hands up and down Q’s arms as if to glue him back together. The omega looked like he was about to be sick.

“Don’t know, I don’t-“ Q suppressed a gag, “it’s not, I’d know wouldn’t I?" He winced again and shot out a hand to clutch James’ shirt. “Oh God, James, fuck-“ Gripping the back of his shaking mate’s neck, the alpha eyed the way Q was hugging his stomach tightly.

“We’re going to the hospital.” Q didn’t even protest, just nodding in some kind of shocked fear, breath too fast. James detached long enough to snag the keys to the car and flat, found Q rising to stand on trembling legs and took hold of him calmly.

“Can you walk?” Q nodded again, looking increasingly white with fear, tight lipped. James pressed the flat keys into Q’s right hand and scooped him up instead, his own insides tightening along with Q’s body when the omega bit back a small noise.

“It’s going to be fine, I’ve got you.” James paused long enough for Q to pull the door shut and lock it from within the safety of his alpha’s arms; fingers steady despite his bodily shaking.

He didn’t run to the car for fear of jostling Q, and carefully helped Q strap in, making sure the seatbelt was below his belly before dashing to the driving side.

“Still hurt?” Q shook his head tightly at the sharp question, but still had the pallor of a ghost. Fighting his own rapid pulse, James sped to the hospital.

“Th-there’s no b-blood.” Q managed, James pressed down on the accelerator anyway.

Upon arriving at the hospital Q hadn’t had any more pain, but getting out of the car again sent him bending over and weak legged with a sharp stab of pain and fear.

“James!” Q breathed, clearly close to panicking. James slammed his door and sprinted around to the omega’s side sliding hands carefully under Q’s on his belly and rubbing for a moment. Q’s arms came up around his shoulders and clung on for dear life, panting into his shoulder and wide eyed.

“It can’t be, I can’t, _James_ -“

“Everything alright here?” A nurse was peering around their car, parked right in front of the doors, with a concerned expression.

“Wheelchair. We need a wheelchair.” She nodded briskly at the authority in his voice and hurried off. Bond nuzzled into Q’s neck, the scent of his scared mate doing nothing to quell his own rising panic. The wheelchair arrived not long after along with a doctor, Q shied away from him with a weak snarl.

“Love-“

“I know, I know, sorry.” Q panted and the doctor frowned.

“I can get someone else if you’d be more comfortable?” Q’s grip on James’ shoulders tightened. The alpha could understand, Q was going instinctual, reacting to predisposed opinions of face shape, gender, composing a picture of ‘safe’ or ‘danger’. It wasn’t helpful but he couldn’t help it.

“Just get him help.” James demanded and eased Q up gently; still he winced a little in the moments between standing and settling in the wheelchair.

The doctor thankfully didn’t take offence to Q’s dislike, and fetched a different doctor to come and look over Q after a short wait for an exam room.

They were actually seen by an omega doctor. One of the very few James had come across. She carefully went through Q’s vitals, kept a slightly wary distance from Bond, and gave a thorough check over followed by a scan. Q was gripping James’ hand hard enough to break at the sight of the sonogram appearing normal.

“You did the right thing by coming in, but everything appears completely normal.” She began, fixing them with a calming smile, and indicated the screen. “Nothing’s amiss, and you seem in perfect health.”

“But that hurt.” Q wasn’t whining, his voice was sharp and clipped, unwilling to have any potential threat to Blasty glossed over. The omega stood sharply to attention in surprise, as if she’d never had another one of her gender pull rank on her before.

“Of course,” She recovered quickly. “I think what you suffered was sudden round ligament pain, right now your stomach ligaments are beginning to stretch to hold everything supportively. Usually it’s just an ache or some pain, not too severe, but it can happen this way occasionally with first pregnancies. It should get better, but the aches may continue throughout.”

“Right.” Q nodded, and the doctor delved into pamphlets and massage techniques, suggestions to move slowly and make sure to both exercise for some time each day and rest.

Nothing new there, but James was too relieved to feel annoyed at the repeat information. Q thanked the doctor, and experimentally slid off the examination table. He winced a little, but as promised, it already didn’t seem so bad.

“Well done for not panicking and for coming in.” She smiled at them on their slow way out, Q moving gingerly. Bond felt a little patronised, and out of sorts from having Q experience mystery pain, but knew when to count himself lucky.

And that had felt far too close.

Both men fell into their car with sighs and sat for a moment unmoving. Wordlessly James started the Aston and turned out before capturing Q’s hand in one of his.

“I think we need to do some more reading.”

“Mmm.” Q agreed, still pretty tense, and squeezed James’ fingers. “You’re right. First thing after house viewing tomorrow.” James looked over in surprise.

“You want to go?” Q looked over with a sheepish little smile and shrug.

“I think you’re right, the sooner we can get settled in somewhere the better. There’s too much we haven’t done yet and it’s all…” Q flapped a hand around vaguely. “Descending.” James could understand what his mate meant. And was in complete agreement.

“The less stress later on the better.”

“Exactly. That’s probably what made tonight worse… Sorry for worrying you.” James shook his head and pulled Q’s hand up for a kiss.

“Not a problem.” He met Q’s eyes. “Never a problem.” Q shifted enough to kiss James’ shoulder before leaning back with another sigh and finally relaxing.

 _Three weeks_ , James promised himself. _I’ll get us a house in three weeks_.

Internal decision made, he took his mate home, where Q promptly, if gingerly, changed into pyjamas and settled down in the kitchen to help James cook. The alpha only let him taste test, but appreciated Q sticking close.

He didn’t think either of them could stand another scare like that.

 

-00Q00-

 

Q found house viewings both tedious and disappointing. He didn’t want to feel so uninspired, but that was just how it was. He had lived in three places his whole life, one he’d been born into; one he’d had no choice over through uni; one he’d chosen for himself out of the list of MI6 ‘safe’ flats.

There was only one he’d poured himself into, throughout his career, he’d lived there a full year before adding a personal touch that counted. Bond moved through accommodation so fluidly that it had been a joy to witness him move in, but Q couldn’t get that close to something meant to be such an important decision.

MI6 cleared houses were at least safe, in useful parts of town and if they wanted it there would be no competition. James had narrowed down the choice from the folder to suitable places, Q had ruled out some with too dated electrical systems; if he were going to be upgrading their security whilst pregnant, he’d prefer a decent start.

They had a list of viewings for Saturday, and then James was going to take evidence of what they liked/disliked and go from there.

Q was glad James was taking charge of it, because he found it exhausting.

It was still hot, and last night hadn’t helped at all, but still. Three houses down their list for the day, Q was ready to beg for a lunch break.

“Have you liked any of them?” James asked with a hint of frustration as Q grumpily devoured some pasta.

“I liked the plants in the second one.” Q saw James bite his tongue and knew he was being petulant. But he didn’t much care…

Except that James was trying and it would be good to have a new home ready soon, and he couldn’t blame pregnancy for everything, and he didn’t want to be one of those whiny omegas… So he sighed, put his fork down, and focused.

“Alright. Um, the placement of the first one was convenient, the layout of the second one was useful, and the third had quite a lot of light.” Q managed, mumbling slightly over the words as he attempted to put a positive spin. James raised an eyebrow.

“Well don’t sound too enthusiastic.” Q breathed out and ran hands through his hair. He didn’t know why he was so annoyed recently, but he felt tense all the time.

Ironically having the house sorted would probably help. But he was so worried about everything. And hot. And tired… to the point where he couldn’t stop thinking about how hot and tired he was and it was making him more miserable.

“I know. I’m sorry. But I can’t be. I can’t be enthusiastic about it.” Q gestured hopelessly under James’ unreadable expression and shrugged. “I don’t know what we’re looking for and I don’t know what I want. I just don’t.”

“But last night-“

“I know!” Q dropped his head into his hands lest he start shouting and causing a scene. “But knowing something’s sensible and necessary doesn’t automatically make me positive about it right now.” He took a breath, forced himself not to break down into a crisis and plea heat and fatigue and unreasonable anger as excuses for his ill cooperation.

“Q-“

“I’ll try harder. This afternoon I’ll try harder.” Q announced with only mild annoyance to go along with the frustration, and took a long drink from his glass to save him having to either look at or respond to James.

The alpha seemed completely unfazed. He’d clearly gone into mission mode.

For the second time in as many days, they didn’t talk until they’d reached their destination. This time another townhouse. Q tried to pull himself together and smile, be attentive. He looked around the master bedroom as James asked important questions and just found nothing.

“I don’t like it.” He muttered under his breath. James looked over at him, hearing of a hawk.

“What was that love?” Q managed to school a half strangled smile onto his face.

“Lovely view!” He didn’t think he’d ever seen James look so disappointed in him, and immediately felt bad.

Now he’d resorted to lying. Why couldn’t he be hormonal in a normal trimester, this was meant to be the easy one! He met James’ eyes a little hopelessly before looking away to curse himself. James was making an effort. He could at least make one himself.

Q turned to the still babbling tour guide or whatever the talkative alpha estate agent was pretending to be.

“Can we see the upstairs please?” James shot him a sharp glance at the tentatively polite tone. The smarmy other alpha turned to James with a little half mocking smile.

“But you haven’t even finished seeing around this level yet!” He reminded jovially, and then cast a falsely concerned look at Q’s midriff. “Why don’t you have a seat for a bit if you’re tired?” The man gestured a chair near Q and the omega started to feel a little unhinged in dual annoyance and confusion at said annoyance, finally deciding that he simply didn’t want any more fuss.

“Okay.” He sat down. James stared at him like he’d sprouted a second head, but Q kept his head down even when he heard his mate round on the other alpha.

“Listen here,” He began with a lethally polite voice. “If my mate wants to go look upstairs, we should go look upstairs.”

“It’s fine James.” Q muttered, perched on the chair uneasily. There was a soft growl and then James was striding over, pulled Q up firmly but gently by the arm and wheeled them out.

“Come on, this isn’t where I want to live.” Q just went with it, not wanting to make things any worse, and let himself be led from the house and down the street until they reached a park. Here James steered them into a clear patch of grass under the huge trees and sat Q down, frown on his face.

“Q-“ With a sick little whine Q flopped down onto his side and rolled over onto his back, hands coming up to hide his face and shaking at the need he felt to just submit and avoid this scenario. James cursed and had slid under Q quicker than an eel, rolling the slighter man over enough so that he was pillowed on the alpha’s chest and wrapped up tight in his arms instead of exposed.

“Q,” James tried again, attempting to sound calm if the shake in his voice was anything to go by. Q felt spent, suddenly entirely aware of what he was doing, and how he was feeling: vulnerable. He had been for the best part of the week to be honest.

“I’m sorry. Just… I haven’t lived in a house since…everything… and it’s a stupid time for this to have kicked back up-“

“Shh, tell me.” James soothed, kissed his head and squeezed him into a crush zone.

“I’m scared. And nervous. And last night was awful. And the idea of a house seems formal and it makes me feel sick. I hate being so ridiculous.”

“Hey, hey, shh.” James rubbed his back firmly, loosening tensed muscles and forcing Q to relax. “It’s fine. It’s a lot. There’s still times I can’t sit on certain chairs without thinking someone’s going to tie me to one… I wish you’d told me.”

“I didn’t know.” Q answered honestly, and nuzzled into James. “I do know we need a house though. I realize that.” James kissed his hair and settled them both back in the afternoon sun to rest for a bit. Q let the feeling of his mate’s hands and the scent of the man unwind him gradually. Admitting what he’d been feeling was a bit of a relief, even though he knew the fear was born out of inbuilt instinct rather than sense.

Now that he knew, he could stop it, or at least understand what was happening to him. Of course, all these extra stresses had a way of bringing out old ones, and last night with their first real worry for Blasty seemed to set everything off.

“I love you.” Q announced eventually in a murmur.

“I love you too.” James replied, and squeezed him tighter. Q sighed out roughly.

“Vulnerability and unknown. They can be triggers, apparently.”

“You’re not vulnerable when you’re with me.” Q’s breath caught slightly at the sure rumbling growl from beneath him, and he gulped a little, failing to entirely compose his voice for the next question.

“And the unknown?”

“It’s always been good to me.” James pondered, and lifted Q up enough to meet his eyes. “You were an unknown once.”

Q couldn’t think of anything to say to that, so instead ducked and kissed James on the mouth, lips massaging for a moment before he slid off the alpha’ chest and turned to catch the sun with his face, letting his eyes close. He shifted comfortably when his alpha’s arms slid around him, and turned to smile at those gorgeous ice shadow eyes.

“You are wonderful, you know, for doing this, finding us a house. I wouldn’t be able to do this without you.” James smiled cheekily.

“Oh, is that all?” Q indulged him, and gave him another kiss.

“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere with anyone but you. No matter who I am, or where in my head or on Earth I am, you’re the one I’ll always run to. You’re perfect to me with all of your imperfections.” James was silent for a long moment after his words, and then slowly encased him in a kiss and embrace that made Q feel as if he’d managed to break through some wall previously unknown. Fingers finding James’ hair, Q let himself drown in the waves.

 

-00Q00-

 

James watched his Q’s face as the svelte creature dosed in the setting sunlight on their patch of the park.

For all Q’s melodious voice, he knew his mate was no poet, yet the last time he’d heard words like that they’d been coming from his own mouth all those decades ago and into the ear of a woman he’d given everything for.

He’d spent years after Vesper thinking that was the end of his love, that even though she had thought him more of a man than anyone else, it couldn’t have been really him she was breaking apart for.

It wasn’t every day someone poured their heart out to you, even years into his and Q’s relationship, a relationship that James had never thought he would have again, let alone surpass on so many levels. To hear words he’d bled out being transfused back into him… He’d never let Q experience even a seventh of the heartbreak he had back then, never let the omega revisit those childhood poisons.

It was amazing that after two years being happy with the same person; he could fall in love all over again.

Feeling his chest full and fit to burst, James leant close, brushed Q’s hair back gently as he murmured to him softly in his sleep.

“Your brother asks me ‘Venice or Istanbul’… He doesn’t understand that there’s only one person in the world I would go back to both with, and be able to feel like whatever was left of me there is now a whole.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure this is exactly one of the best chapters, but I'm just glad I got it out. For some reason it was a nightmare. I'm balancing how much Holmes interaction there should be with my love for Q h/c and just making Bond be protective at twigs, and pregnancy symptoms (which aren't copious this trimester) and I know nothing about buying houses cos I'm poor like a flea!  
> That... and 00Q kept wanting to fight this chapter! Omg I don't even know why but they just wanted to full on brawl. Good grief.  
> *breathes*  
> ...Sooo hopefully still enjoyable, and I WILL TRY to get more up sooner this time round. Shouldn't be AS hectic this week...
> 
> Thank you all for being wonderful, your comments and kudos are immensely inspiring n_n


	21. H0: Gender unknown; H1: Gender opinions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...Can I blame a job interview for lateness this week? Yeah? Yeah. So, I had this job interview!... I know. I'm very sorry. These chapters are kind of 'interim' and have been a little tough to write. Interviews just didn't help xD
> 
> Anyway enjoy!

“Looks like your foetus is just a touch under average size now-“

“How much?”

“Well within range. And you’re looking a lot healthier.” The doctor soothed, moving back out of the way. Q sat back with a smug expression, James chuckled, but the quartermaster was simply happy in the knowledge that he was providing a better growing environment recently.

“How soon can you tell what gender we have?” James piped up curiously. Q shot him a shocked look.

“Do we want to know?”

“I want to know how soon we can know.” Q hummed a bit, that sounded reasonable, but he wasn’t sure he was prepared for any kind of definite knowledge.

“Well, at twenty weeks there shouldn’t be any doubt. Sometimes we can tell earlier, usually sooner if you’re carrying a boy. Did you want to-“ Q’s decidedly unsure grumbling whine cut him off, and the doctor smiled kindly. “Well, that will be your next appointment, so you can decide by then.”

Q had been feeling a little better since the weekend, and seeing their grey and white finally baby-looking pup on the ultrasound was a good pick-me-up.

“They moved!”

“What?!”

“There!” James was pointing almost frantically at the screen. Q looked over to see that their baby had completely rolled over; his stomach gave a little flip.

“He’s all toes,” Q commented weakly as the ever-shifting image showed grainy folds of leg, toes, the curves of back and spine.

“Ten toes.” James counted, voice unguardedly surprised at the detail they were receiving.

“That’s the ideal number of toes.” Q confirmed seriously, D’Arcy laughed gently at them.

“And that dark spot there’s the heart, one further down is the stomach…”

“Christ!” Q exclaimed, jumping a bit when Blasty performed another rapid shift until he was pressed upside down. “Christ you’re wiggly.” He had to clench James’ hand to prevent himself form clutching his belly in case he could feel the womb acrobatics. The tightness of his mate’s fingers suggested James was inches from doing the same.

“When you said our pup was ‘moving’ last week you didn’t mention the work out regime.” James commented, nudging Q’s shoulder. The omega looked up to see the most light-struck smile on the alpha’s face. Q wanted to capture the moment forever as James watched the screen avidly.

“I didn’t think there would be.” Q admitted, eyes tearing back to their shifting foetus. James’ hand was almost vice-like on his own in excitement, joy, pride. Q couldn’t get over just how real and alive their pup seemed now… and the ultrasound made him look a lot bigger than he was.

“Just turning to press into your stomach now.” The doctor narrated Blasty’s face-smooshing action. Q managed very well not making any noise or moving. In a switch of ultrasound Blasty rolled right-way up again.

“You can see some swallowing as well…” The pair listened to Dr. D’Arcy pointing out physiology, movement…soaking it up. James managed to ask some questions, they heard Blasty’s heartbeat again. Q was fairly sure he giggled more than spoke.

“So, there you have it.”

“Still looks a bit like a monster.” James commented, Q snickered and smacked him lightly with his free hand.

“Don’t listen to him,” he ordered down at his stomach, “we think you’re lovely.” Q looked back at James. “You’d probably love to have a monster.” James preened a little.

“Well, I’m afraid that’s our check up over for today,” D’Arcy started. Q made an abortive noise as the man went to turn off the ultra sound and handed Q a tissue to wipe off the gel. Really, he could have happily watched it forever.

Just use ultrasound instead of daytime TV.

Well, maybe not forever, but certainly for a while longer. James seemed to feel the same if his put-out expression was anything to go by. Still they finished the niceties and left without threatening to pull rank on their doctor.

“So, do you want to know next time?” James asked, Q pondered as he rubbed his belly, picturing their little rolling pup and wondering how soon he would be able to feel it.

“I don’t know… I suppose that after going through everything, it would be nice to have one final surprise. Otherwise it looses some of the excitement.” James nodded thoughtfully and pulled Q closer, splaying a hand onto his stomach and patting affectionately, rubbing.

“Well, you know how I like surprises.” He teased. Q grinned and kissed him. “But even if we do find out, we still won’t know the sex until birth will we? Alpha, beta, omega?”

“That’s true. Or at least until the week or two before, it’s notoriously hard to tell before that, apparently.” James breathed out with a smile and nudged Q’s chin to nuzzle exposed throat, nipping slightly.

“I bet you make a very comfortably incubator.” He joked, hand massaging Q’s belly gently.

“If I’d known how much he was going to move I’d have got a trapeze installed.” James laughed.

“I’m just happy about the number of toes.”

“Ten?”

“It’s a good number of toes.”

“The best number of toes.”

Their jovial chatter was cut short when they reached the car park and were somewhat blindsided by the sight of Mycroft in full suit, umbrella and all.

“Do we have a gender yet? Another boy in the family perhaps? Or maybe a girl, that would be novel.” Mycroft opened with. James managed to school himself back from surprise quickly, which was good. Q sighed but couldn’t feel too annoyed today.

“Hello Mycroft.”

“Aster, James.” The alpha came over and planted himself between them to pull Q into a hug. The omega wrapped around him easily enough with a contented little noise, but was soon being hoisted into movement.

“Mycroft?”

“Hey,” James followed curiously and warily as the other alpha started getting Q back to the pair’s car with a firm grasp around him.

“Thought I’d come over for lunch.” The casual tone implied that there was no doubt he would be doing just that.

“My, I’m meant to get back to work!”

“I called ahead, booked you a day off, I’ve even ordered the food.” James automatically unlocked the car, Q seeing blue eyes slightly wide in surprise from where he was being walked backwards.

“What? How, why,” Mycroft turned Q and the omega saw that half the car had been packed full of picnic baskets and cool boxes. “Wh-w-wh-“

“In you get Star,” There was little Q could do in his surprise to protest as Mycroft prodded him into the back seat of the car, secured the seatbelt around him –making sure it rested under his belly- and handed him what appeared to be a chocolate milkshake. “Not a word Aster dear, I have only the ulterior motive of wanting to give you a thorough look over and making sure you’re eating enough for two, so do relax and try not to think too much?” With that Mycroft ruffled his hair and closed the door, leaving Q to sit surrounded by delicious smells and sip at his milkshake in petulant shock.

Damn it was good though.

The two alphas got in seconds later, and the three of them headed home.

“So, _do_ we know the gender?”

“Not yet, we want it to be a surprise.” James supplied with a grin, probably knowing how the answer would aggravate Mycroft’s practical nature. On cue Mycroft sighed long-sufferingly.

“That is hardly practical in this day and age when knowledge is at the tips of your fingers. Aster I would have thought you’d be itching to get into the necessary research.”

“There’s research enough.” Q muttered, thinking of the all-too-graphic section on labour he’d attempted to read yesterday and had to shut away in a drawer hastily. James hadn’t fared much better upon investigation; in fact he’d turned rather green.

“You’re already going to be blindsided by the sex, don’t give yourselves more to chew.” Mycroft argued with logical reasoning, voice betraying that he thought the pair of them weren’t being particularly intelligent or rational. “With you Aster we knew from the first minute we could about gender, sex, everything.”

“Didn’t help much.” He commented dryly, “Everyone forgot I was even meant to go into heats until it happened.” Mycroft coughed awkwardly as if still embarrassed by the fact.

“Yes, well, we all forget some things.”

“Seems like a pretty important thing.” James quipped back, clearly sensing the teasing atmosphere in the car. “What is it, four times a year?” He turned to grin at Q.

“And I’ve kept track ever since your first one!” Mycroft defended grumpily. Q chuckled and reached to pat his oldest brother on the shoulder.

“Not to worry, I’m only teasing.”

“Yes I suppose you are.” Mycroft sighed, becoming a lot lighter spirited the realisation. “So, how’s the house hunting going?”

 

-00Q00-

 

Mycroft had arranged quite the spread, not that James was entirely surprised by that. Still, now that Q’s appetite had returned full blast it was a joy to see his mate tucking in. Certainly Q was hardly packing on the pregnancy pounds…what was more interesting was Mycroft’s behaviour.

The alpha had a curious tendency to immediately put down whatever he was eating when James came into the room, but his plate showed evidence of swiftly eaten and restocked foods. The agent lurked back one time on the pretence of refilling the expensive teas Mycroft had insisted on, and got to watch the two brothers undisturbed.

Mycroft kept topping up Q’s plate, and even at one point feeding him something from a fork. James had tried not to laugh too much at Q’s mildly disgruntled expression morphing into bliss.

The alpha would also eat, well, a _lot_. It was as if Q was his enabler, or secret-keeper.

“Mmm! Try this one,” Q pushed half a slice of quiche onto his brother’s plate before digging into his own. James watched a rare looking light hit Mycroft’s eyes, and thought he maybe appreciated the man a little bit more.

On the other hand, this was some sort of private ritual… something Mycroft didn’t necessarily want James involved in, and yet had brought it back to his and Q’s joint home.

Desperation? Integration? Possession? James couldn’t be sure.

“Don’t forget the teas.” James announced, coming back in with a tray that felt positively domestic…which, he supposed he was, now…

Scary thought.

“Here.” Mycroft had ceased eating whilst Q just licked his mouth clean and beamed up at James. The omega was finally able to drink tea again, and though he kept himself restrained to a couple of cups a day, he delighted in them.

Mycroft spied the offering and lit up.

“Ah, now this is a unique blend grown in Hawaii.” He informed as he poured first Q a mug and then James. Both of the pair reacted favourably to the taste, but the agent only raised impressed eyebrows whilst Q all but melted.

“Do you like it?”

“Delicious.” Q confirmed between sips. Mycroft poured himself a cup and sat back to watch happily as Q set the tea aside and insisted on James trying some of the chocolate cake.

“Mm,” James appreciated in surprise at just how good it was, and sat down on the coffee table to help himself to more. This seemed to relax Mycroft a bit. “Where does it come from?”

“Well, the beans are from Costa Rica, mulled gently and richly by a lovely kitchen in Vienna.” Q seemed to wince a bit at the food miles that went into that, James thought that maybe Mycroft, like his youngest brother, didn’t stray far from England’s shores. Only he’d chosen to visit the world through import.

Still, James thought that Mycroft was also the type to appear where you least expected him… like a beach on South Africa, just to make a point or have a chat. He’d probably be in full suit and umbrella as well. The idea made him have to restrain a laugh, and also heightened his desire to get Q out of the country.

“I’ve seen the chocolate farms on Costa Rica.” James said. “Didn’t get any of this though.”

“Were you in the middle of blowing something up?” Q suggested.

“Hm, possibly.” James conceded with a thoughtful expression.

“That would explain it then.” James turned to Mycroft.

“Do you travel?” The alpha sighed long-sufferingly.

“Men like me don’t get holidays, Mr. Bond.” James didn’t think for a moment that was true; men like Mycroft Holmes just didn’t switch off enough to allow it. “But I am at least less of a heathen than Aster, he hasn’t even been to Scotland.” Mycroft despaired slightly, and Q threw out a mock glare.

“We don’t all get invited up to Balmoral on a weakly basis.” Mycroft brushed off the mention of the Monarch’s Scottish residence as James begun to realise a little more just how deeply interwoven the eldest Holmes brother was with Queen and country.

“Besides, I went to Ireland once.”

“Do you remember any of it?” Mycroft’s raised eyebrow was met with an embarrassed shrug.

“I remember getting there.”

“I think the less said about that the better, don’t you?” James watched Q flush a little and look down in embarrassment.

“What?” Mycroft turned with a sigh to James.

“He hasn’t told you why he’s afraid of flying?” Q interrupted by taking James’ hand with a pained sort of smile.

“When I was still at home, Sherlock wanted me on one of his cases… only we had to fly and he was a bit…not himself,” James took that to mean ‘high as a kite’, “the timing wasn’t good with the stress because I still…didn’t get out much and…went into heat on the plane.” James blanched and Q waved a hand to calm him.

“It was fine. But the only way Sherlock could protect me was, in _his_ mind, to get me into the cockpit and lock out the pilot and co-pilot… It was very nearly a mess.” Mycroft was pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Sherlock crashed the plane, on water!” Q reached out and placed a soothing hand on his brother’s knee.

“I assure you I was well beyond the point of caring about the specifics at that point.”

“The rescue crew got you drunk!” Q withdrew and shrugged, taking another sip of tea.

“Well, it was the only way they could calm me down. Nice blokes, really.” Mycroft shook his head in disbelief.

“When I found you both you were in a state, and had been drunk for a good three days to cope with the stress… Oh why am I bothering?” He threw up his hands and Q smiled apologetically, reaching to catch his brother’s forearm.

“Sorry, still just teasing.” Mycroft raised an eyebrow.

“Pregnancy makes you awfully playful.” Q sighed with a smile, shot James a look that usually served as warning that his mate was about to move to contact someone, and knelt up to pull Mycroft’s head into a hug, stroking his hair.

James subtly cleared the plates whilst the other alpha was too shocked to notice.

“I’m sorry My, we gave you some nasty shocks.” Mycroft wrapped his arms around Q slightly stiffly; as if he had forgotten how to reciprocate genuinely. James, watching just out of view, saw him kiss the rise of Q’s bump.

“No more than I deserved, maybe.” Q seemed a little awkward at the admission, and instead scratched his brother’s hair in a massaging motion. James smirked as he remembered Alec ‘unlocking’ Q’s latent omega instincts, watching Mycroft Holmes melting in his brother’s arms and relaxing muscles that the agent hadn’t known the man was tensing.

They sat that was for ten minutes before Mycroft pulled back and set Q down on the couch.

“Thank you, my little Star.”

It was worth waiting in silence just to see the utterly crimson shade Q turned; bashful but almost absurdly pleased looking at the nickname. It was both hilarious and adorable, really, and James didn’t think he’d ever met anyone who made him want to laugh as much as Q did.

The omega leant forwards to nuzzle his brother in a determined manner not to be ignored, but was stopped from pulling back by the alpha’s arms latching onto him and clamping them together.

“I’ve been reading up about omega pregnancies in preparation, I hope you’ve not been sleeping on your back? Left side is best you know.”

“I know Mycroft.” Q’s voice was slightly muffled by his brother’s determined stroking of his hair.

“How are your hips?”

“Fine!” Q wriggled to get out in mild annoyance but was held firm.

“There are exercises you should be doing to ensure they dislocate cleanly and snap back in correctly.” Q whined in mortification and fret at the thought, and James snorted at the breach in levels of awkward, but came back around the sofa at the same time because Q was uneasy.

“If you threaten a demonstration-“ Q began in protest.

“They’ll be classes for both of you to book closer to the time with professionals. James, you’ll need to go to become practiced in relocating Aster’s hips safely in case there’s a home birth, and also on caring for him just before and after the birth. Not to mention the newborn classes and infant care. There is a lot for you two to learn. I hope you’ve been given sufficient time off work?” The sharp tone suggested dire consequences otherwise.

“From January I’m off, and December I’m part time.”

“Good. Good.” Mycroft then reached purposefully to shift Q’s tops up and gently but knowledgeably prod and press the omega’s belly. Q grumbled and wriggled, James tensed.

“Calm down the pair of you.” Somewhat in surprise, James did the instant Q did, sighing and letting his brother have his way.

Apparently Mycroft was satisfied by his inspection. He eventually sighed contentedly and patted Q’s belly, stroking up and down once before directing the omega upright again. Patting Q for one final time over his top, Mycroft turned to his younger brother.

“Impressive, Aster.” James saw Q blush a bit and smiled to himself; the eldest Holmes’ praise and support meant more to his mate than possibly the man himself realised.

“Its only what I’m designed to do.”

“None the less, this,” Mycroft gestured around their house and to James before resting his hand comfortably again on Q’s stomach. “Is so much more than I thought any of us could achieve.” Q sat, and blushed, and seemed to lock down a little, a smile tugging relentlessly at the corner of his mouth. Mycroft seemed to accept this reaction, and placed a platonic kiss to Q’s hair before standing and extending his hand to James.

“Good to see you again James.” The agent nodded and walked the alpha down to his car.

“When you picked me up from the airport, you said you didn’t know the specifics-“

“Of what happened after communication was cut when you were on an aircraft carrier off the shore of Madagascar?” Mycroft finished, turning to Bond with a slight smirk as a car pulled up to the pavement from seemingly nowhere. James frowned a bit.

“Yes.”

“Well, I may have under exaggerated my input a tiny bit. It wouldn’t have helped you given the situation to know my full involvement.” James’ frown deepened.

“But then, surely you knew about the whole event, what happened at Six, and to Q…”

“Yes.” Mycroft confirmed, turning to face James with a question on his face, umbrella held upright on the ground. “You’re issue being?” James struggled to remain calm.

“You dropped me off here, picked me up without showing a hint of having done anything when your pregnant brother-“ Mycroft’s small smirk and quiet laugh broke James’ rising fury, and he watched in mixed anger and shock as the man began to turn to his car, looking back to smile knowingly at the blonde.

“My dear James, who was it that you think interrogated M?”

With that, and leaving a stunned expression on James’ face, the alpha merrily chortled and with a: ‘I’ll be in touch’, and slid into his car and away.

James shook his head in disbelief. Considering what Tanner and M had alluded to about the ‘punishment’ the man was put through by the government. It certainly answered the question on just how much information Mycroft had access to, and just how powerful the man really was.

He returned to the flat, seeing the clutter of food with a slight frown, but no Q.

“James?” He smirked, calmed by the voice and the scent, by the somewhat unnerving knowledge that Q’s eldest brother was potentially as terrifying as his M, seemed hell bent on protecting his own and was thankfully on their side. He went over to their bedroom, leaning against the door and smiling when he saw Q piling up a nest. “Come here.” Q coaxed, smiling.

“I’m to be ensconced I take it?” None the less he accepted Q’s hand and flopped down onto the bed.

“You’re my centrepiece. Just…entertain yourself for a while.” Q handed James the newspaper and began ambling around the room, collecting various cushions and covers. James ignored the paper and sat back, arms behind his head, watching with contentment and fond amusement as Q constructed a nest around him before pooling himself into the middle with the alpha.

“You alright?”

“Mmm, I just wanted to savour this moment.” Q nuzzled into him and gradually twined his limpet limbs around the muscular form of his mate, becoming un-detachable. “My brother practically just gave me his blessing and pride all at once, and pregnancy endorphins really blow that sort of thing out of proportion. It’s delicious.”

James smiled, got comfortable and held Q soundly, stroking his back and hair.

“I never knew you had such a colourful childhood.” He mused. Q snorted a little before speaking ruefully.

“I highly doubt it was anymore colourful than yours. When did you say you lost your virginity again? When you were sixteen in Paris? Very exotic.”

“It was nearly a month earlier in Bern.” Q poked him but laughed at the tease anyway. “I want to take you out of the country sometime. Maybe start with going up to Scotland, or across the channel to France. What do you think?” Q fiddled with James’ shirt button for a minute.

“If you’re with me, I might like that.” There was no more answer than that, but James pulled Q up enough to kiss him anyway. That, he could work with.

“Besides,” James shifted Q around until he could talk to his stomach, the omega’s hands resting lightly on his head. “Our pup should be multilingual.” He nuzzled into his mate’s belly.

“Bonjour Blastee,” Q burst out laughing and held him tighter.

“I swear if you teach Blasty some obscure dialect of Arabian that I can’t understand we’ll be speaking in computer code before you can say blip.”

“I’ll teach him Morse.”

“I know Morse.”

“Semaphore then.”

“…Bastard.”

 

-00Q00-

 

Other than backaches work really wasn’t too bad lately. Q had several interesting projects, there was the occasional challenging mission and frustrating equipment return but all in all a week that made one happy to be running Q Branch. Even the interdepartmental meetings he had to attend ran smoothly. Though that could be in part thanks to no one wanting to upset or antagonise a pregnant omega.

Just sometimes, however, he would get that sharp ache when he moved too quickly. Q’s response to it had become purely instinctual: lock down.

The effect seemed to worry his branch but if he just stayed still for a while and continued to move slowly, everything was fine.

Still, it wasn’t too much to worry about… except for when he and James went house viewing again on Saturday. It was already looking pretty hopeless, Q unable to find that certain spark he was looking for and feeling a little nervous and subservient…but then he fell over on the stairs.

It was ungainly, ungraceful, and completely unpredictable.

Q’s foot caught on the carpet and his general imbalance at the moment did the rest. It wasn’t a bad fall, just a slip down and James caught him, but they were both a both shaken for the moment.

Needless to say they didn’t pursue that house.

The omega was still getting used to the idea that his body was something ‘precious’ now, or at least in charge of something worth protecting. Usually it was his mind he was trying to save, and it was slightly disconcerting that he’d ended up with very little control over his body.

Maybe it just seemed worse because now he had to watch out for trips and falls.

“How did I not know you were this clumsy?” James half teased as he escorted Q to the next house, arm clamped firmly around the younger man’s waist. Q just tucked in closer and shook his head.

“I’ve been asking myself the same question.” He admitted.

“I should attach a pillow to you.” The alpha muttered, some worry clear in his voice.

“Or, you could just stay with me.” Because he felt the keen need for James around more than ever, whilst at the same time desiring his own space… It was confusing. James was silent for a moment.

“I can do that.” Q twined their hands together.

Their next house was the first one James said no to instead of Q.

“Rising damp.” Was all he would say when pressed, and Q left it at that. Really, it was beginning to look a little hopeless.

And it was hot. Again.

The tube back was a nightmare even though they’d ‘brought a water bottle with them’ as the overhead announcements so usefully suggested.

The final over-ground train they had to circumnavigate to get home was thankfully slightly less packed.

Q slumped into a window seat and was shielded by the wall of muscle that was his James. Still, with the heat so oppressing the whole situation was bordering on claustrophobic.

A gaggling group of omegas clamoured into the table seats nearby and proceeded to sniff the air before looking over at Q. Dread filled every pore as with a rush the teenage group shot up and all six of them poured over the backs of the seats in front to get a good look at him. Clearly their common sense had been squashed by broodiness, because they foolishly completely ignored James.

“Oh how far along are you?”

“Are you the father?”

“Awww that’s just soo sweet!”

“Is it kicking yet?”

“Boy or girl?”

“Can I touch-“ James sprung up with a snarl that sent all the omegas skittering and squeaking back into their original seats. They shot fearful looks over at the alpha who calmly sat down, satisfied, and handed Q back the dislodged water bottle.

Q tried not to smirk too much as he smugly sipped the water, ignoring the dually awed and terrified looks of his own kind.

“…No reprimand?” James murmured in a tone that suggested he wouldn’t be paying the slightest bit of attention to any such thing, and proceeded to fuss slightly with holding the omega’s hair away from his face and fanning him with a newspaper. Contented as the cat that got the cream.

“They were ‘touchers’. Permission to disembowel at will.” James raised an eyebrow, evidently slightly lethally pleased to be given free reign to protect his mate. Q watched, trying not to laugh, as the agent turned a decidedly worrying look of appraisal onto the group of huddled omegas.

“Duly noted.”

One of them actually flinched when they hastened off the train at the very next stop and all but ran up the platform.

James grumbled appreciatively as Q snuggled happily against him, enjoying their now empty half of the carriage… Then the ticking started.

The pair shared a look, and then glanced over at the table where a single rucksack lay abandoned.

“Oh shit.” Q murmured, and both he and James shot to their feet. “Get the carriage cleared, block the entrances.”

“On it.” James stalked up to the occupied end of the train as they both switched flawlessly into mission mode. Q heard the alpha pulling a badge and instructing people to move to the next carriage along. The quartermaster pulled his phone and began circling the bag. Rather than make a call, he brought up the portable scanning program he’d built into his self-made, re-constituted phone.

“Emergency break?” James asked quietly upon returning. Q could hear the underlying thrum of tension being masked… likely at his mate’s proximity to the danger rather than anything else. Q wasn’t overly keen on the idea either.

“Not until I know if it’s motion triggered.” His eyes flickered over the readout from the bag, considering he’d need to implement an improved x-ray if possible. “There’s definitely some form of electronics, and a bottle, I can’t tell what’s in it.” He glanced over at James. “Call the driver, get him to slow to as gentle a stop as possible.”

“Right. Evacuation?”

“Keep them warned for that.” Q blocked out the surrounding stimuli of the call, focused on what he could learn about the device from the outside and waited for the train to begin slowing down.

On the outside there wasn’t much to tell. His phone could read that there was another phone in the bag, active, and the rudimentary scan showed some of the contents, which included wires and the bottle. By the time the train had stopped, Q was sure the zip was free and clear. James had given the order to evacuate the train, now replaying over the announcement device, and people were milling around looking confused and worried, some of the ones standing a way back were pointing at their carriage.

Using surgeon-sure hands Q begun opening the bag, using the small torch he’d installed to get a better look… With a dramatic sigh and hint of annoyance Q pulled out the mobile phone and threw aside the earphones and Tropicana bottle that the bag had contained. James was tense as a crouched tiger as Q rolled his eyes at the man and waved the phone.

“What genius thought that this would make a sensible ring tone?” The phone displayed ‘Mum calling’ along with the bomb ticking noise. James’ eyebrow twitched.

“I don’t know whether to be relieved or offended.” Q griped, throwing the phone down and waving a thumbs-up all-clear to the security guard.

“Be relieved.” James managed finally, voice gruff. Of all things, clapping started up from outside. Q ignored it as he turned back to his mate. The blonde looked two steps from exploding himself, and wordlessly took Q by the arm and led him off the train. For all the tension the alpha’s body was radiating, his grip on the smaller man was remarkably gentle.

The adrenaline rush fizzed out after the fifth phone call Q had to make. The train company, the upcoming station, the police, M and his branch all had to be informed just to avoid national spectacle or news being made of the event.

James managed to pull a disappearing act for them, the walking wonder that he was. It really was a lot more impressive and less annoying when you were there in person rather than trying to keep up over a security camera.

Their flat was mercifully cool. James, who was still strung like a racehorse, hadn’t said a word. Q could scent the fret; felt pretty tired himself but otherwise fine. He wasn’t scared of bombs.

But James had had a shock. Potent as his protectiveness was at the moment, he needed to be sure his pregnant omega was safe, sound, and whole. Q couldn’t begrudge his alpha that, and remained calmly submissive as James undressed him, proceeded to check his every limb, finger, toe and eyelashes for damage and bundled him up naked under a blanket on the couch. The alpha spent the afternoon curled tightly around Q, holding him close in either constant stroking or grip, occasionally pacing around growling before burrowing back in with the omega.

Q sighed, and either stroked James’ short hair or just nuzzled into the embrace until he dozed. With all the things James had seen and been through, Q was never surprised by the man’s need to reassure himself of his mate’s safety and presence. Him being pregnant was likely to just make it worse.

“Sorry.” The word was bit out gruffly at around six, James keeping Q contained tightly in coils of muscle. The omega just pressed a long kiss to his mate’s pectoral; the only bit of the man he could really uncurl enough to reach, and nuzzled before shifting comfortably against his cocoon. _I don’t mind. I Love you._ He meant. James nosed into his hair and nuzzled himself, getting his scent over Q and relishing in the health and acceptance of his mate.

Really, Q just wished this didn’t have to be so stressful on his alpha as well as him, but knowing how affected James was helped in an entirely different way. Solidarity was key in their relationship.

After a while, however, Q felt it was his turn to break the tension.

“You do realise we’re going to have to tell Alec you stopped and evacuated a train full of civys by the book rather than blow something up, right? Your street cred might fall.”

“Shh.” James grumbled, and wrapped over Q more to curl him in impossibly tighter. “Besides, I’ll still beat you.”

“Geek is chic at the moment.”

“But you’re not wearing you cardigan love.” Q was prevented from giving a witty and pithy reply by James all but smooshing them together and rumbling with contented pride when Q could do no more than wriggle against him ineffectively.

Q considered him completely recovered from the incident considering his ability to be smug was back full force.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mycroft happened because Mycroft is officially this story's ninja. I literally never plan him, he just decides when to show up. Each time, I love him a little more... he may now have control of me!
> 
> Now, I did some research (god forbids anyone sees my youtube watch list) for ultrasounds/gender times, etc, so info here may not be perfect, but it suited my purposes x3  
> I've had one vote that thought 00Q are expecting a boy based on Q's symptoms, which was interesting! Any takers or other wife tales about gender or thoughts on what Blasty is? I may take bets ;3 I'm not sure whether they should find out in four weeks or not anyway! I'm a little undecided...
> 
> I hope you enjoyed, if you go through this little ramble then you have yourself some comfort food, Because comfort food.  
> But anyway thank you for reading and commenting and being all round pineapple levels of awesome! I'm glad to have some more time now for this story, but I won't promise a swift update incase I dramatically fail! xD


	22. H0: Instincts are blueprinted; H1: A pup in hand does not a mother make.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a chapter of two halves! I love the first half dearly...and I'm not too sure about the second, but hey ho! you can't win 'em all ;D  
> Mycroft ninja'd his way in again, again surprising me to put something in earlier than intended. He's a sneaky SOB when he wants to be!
> 
> (plus: on time this week! Woohoo!)

James closed his eyes and breathed out slowly, Q watching him carefully from across his office, tapping instinctually away as he focused on his mate.

“Keep an eye on them, will you?” Q’s sharp gaze softened imperceptibly.

“Yes,” Nodding at the quiet answer James turned and left again. His visit had been but seconds.

This morning the alpha had packed up his top five trainee recruits onto their first ‘double oh’ style missions. Top secret. Very dangerous.

They had all been on regular agent missions, of course they had. But this was a step up.

Q wasn’t supposed to have any direct contact with agents outside of the 00 program, unless there was an emergency. Although he kept a peripheral eye on all missions and was always on hand, he needed to both be on top form for the more dire situations, and kept as far from general knowledge as possible. Less contact points for terrorists.

James had technically asked Q to bend the rules a little, but he couldn’t help it. He’d feel safer knowing that his trainees had Q as their extra eye in the sky, even if they didn’t have the sense to appreciate it yet.

They would. If they made it through their missions, if they made their 00 status, then they’d finally meet him.

Advanced weapons training.

If they made it back.

Statistics showed him that not all of them would. Whether killed, death brought on by their own mistakes, or having to be pulled back.

Kill in the name of Queen and Country. Twice and you were a double oh.

There was something different about doing it on order rather than in self-defence.

Scowling, James gave up on whatever he’d been staring at for the last few hours, and wandered around. He bumped into Tanner.

“Bond, couldn’t lend a hand for a sec could you?” The flustered nature entertained James, so with a smirk he said yes. They approached M’s office…and the sound of a row.

“-breaking all protocol Daniel, you really can’t be here.”

“Well he wants his father and I’ve been trying to cope but with Mathew sick I-“ Tanner knocked on the door, interrupting the confusing argument. James was still trying to crack the code the occupants were using when a snapped ‘yes’ came from M and Tanner pushed the door open.

It wasn’t quite what James had been expecting. M was holding a one year old looking, teary-eyed infant, swaddled in what seemed to be one of those portable-nest blankets. His hair was slightly in disarray and he was jiggling whilst trying to coax a bottle of milk into the pup’s mouth.

Remaining still as a statue, Bond’s eyes swung around to the other room’s occupant, the scent of frustrated and haggard omega filled the air and James came to see a foot-tapping, cross-armed-

“ _Villiers_?” The snarky once-aid for M turned to look at James and found a sneer of disbelief. “I had no idea.”

“Double oh seven. Still dodging bullets?”

“I manage.”

“Yes, always the tenacious one.” James shot a grin over, and sniffed, there was no doubt. He raised an eyebrow at M.

“Took her office and her old aid, is it the house next M?” Mallory rolled scathing eyes at his agent.

“I suggest you desist from teasing my mate Bond or I can arrange you so much paper work you don’t see your own for a week.” The blonde winced at that. Tanner, always a bit uncomfortable looking, appeared decidedly awkward.

Well, it was quite awkward. James remembered the recounted fight M had alluded to with his omega and the harassed attitude coming from Mallory suddenly made more sense. With a smile coating his lips James turned back to Villiers.

“So you were the one who,” me tapped his knuckles on his jaw and watched Villiers’ face twist and fall as M scowled heatedly at the double oh.

“Oh god, he was _your_ mate, the quartermaster is _his_ mate?” Villiers said the last part to M, whose brows fell warningly.

“Daniel.” But the omega wasn’t to be dissuaded, turning to James with disbelief and some annoyance.

“Only you Bond.”

“Well I’m not the only one who mated up.” James indicated with a raised brow. Villiers, or _Daniel_ , apparently, scowled at him.

“One quip about secretarial workplace harassment Bond-“

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” James assured with innocence, and a devil’s smile.

“No, not considering you went and knocked up the quartermaster.”

“I resent that terminology.” James turned and grinned at the dry voice behind him. Q stood in the doorway with a raised eyebrow, looking imperiously around the room and clearly wanting no further part in entering it. Eve stood next to him, peering in with unabashed curiosity.

“…Sorry.” Villiers apologized, sounding more sincere than Bond had ever heard the man. Q took a deep smell of the air and let his eyes drift back to his tablet.

“Forgiven. Bad blood?” He asked with clipped tones and a glance in James’ direction. The alpha smiled.

“I wouldn't say-“

“No, you could say that exactly.” Villiers cut in, James managed to put on an expression of mock-hurt and Q’s mouth quirked subtly upwards at the corners.

“Hmm.”

“Well why don’t you two catch up outside. Tanner can you-“ At the rabid glare from Villiers, M sighed and drew the slightly extended babe back to his chest. “Fine. I need a word with my quartermaster.” There was a stern glare of dismissal thrown about the room and Q stepped aside to allow the outward procession, shooting Bond a look before he slid back into the office and closed the door. Immediately, wailing started.

James looked at Villiers, who appeared entirely unconcerned. Tanner looked like he would welcome his tie strangling him rather than be involved in the domestic, Eve looked far too happy and curious for her own good.

“Miss Moneypenny, pleasure to meet you again, I hear your work is as ever exemplary.” Eve took the handshake with a feline smile and nodded back.

“Likewise.” She replied with a smirk. Tanner looked at the door, where the wailing kicked up a notch. James worried for Q’s mental stability.

“Is everything-“ Villiers waved a hand.

“Mild separation anxiety.”

“ _Mild_?” James couldn’t help but agree with Tanner’s exclamation.

“Compared to Beth he’s a picnic.” Villiers answered with a little laugh of someone who had seen too many explosions to be worried by a pistol. “Trust me, after having three, you learn to spot the worrying ones.” He glanced conspiratorially at James, who was feeling rather pale. “People say omegas are the ones that get it the roughest, but its alphas that are the temperamental ones. And they only respond to their mothers.”

James considered it unfair that Villiers had to look maliciously gleeful whilst telling him this.

Looking back at the door, James was torn between the need to protect his precious mate from the infantile terror…and the utter dread of stepping within a ten-foot radius of the wailing beast.

‘Sorry Q.’ He thought in cowardice, turning shamefully away from the door with a shudder. Unless Q screamed, there wasn’t a power on this earth that could make him go back into that room willingly.

 

-00Q00-

 

Q eyed the infant with an expression that could only be defined as wary. It was wailing.

He should probably feel a bit more hands-on than this. M was desperately trying to calm the pup whilst maintaining a professional attitude. It carried on.

“Um, the word, you wanted a word?” Q managed, attempting to remain unfazed. Blasty could hear these days; the omega hoped he wasn’t getting ideas.

“Yes,” M performed a complicated maneuver and adjusted the child enough to push a file over to Q. “Report on the latest bio-weapons from China, give it a look over and see about counter measures. We could do with being a step up on them.”

Q nodded, interest spiking, and took the folder.

“Is that everything?” He asked, rather hopefully. M glanced up at him, down at the babe, and then back up with a light in his eyes.

“Could you-“

“No.” The word was out before Q had even completely considered it, and M huffed, looked both annoyed and desperate.

“Look, just for a moment whilst I-“

“No!” Q protested, stumbling backwards and holding his hands up.

“Q. You don’t understand; he’s going through the phase when he only wants comfort from an omega! If my mate thinks I’ve failed to make him stop again-“

“N-no! No. No. No he’s your pup! I’ll drop him or, he’ll explode!”

“Don’t be ridiculous!”

“Don’t hand me things I can’t reprogram!” Their hissed back and forth would have been hilarious to an outsider, but for those involved there was too much at stake, and the pup was crying increasingly despite M’s increasingly urgent attempts to calm it. Q was feeling more than a little like a failure himself, and finally sidled over warily.

“If this works, I want a budgetary increase for the new explosives range… and if it doesn’t I want full deniability.” M glared at him.

“If you drop my baby it’s your head on a plate quartermaster… and mine if I don’t catch him.” Gulping, Q awkwardly opened his arms.

The transition was fairly seamless, at least on M’s end; the man evidently was practiced at handing over writhing babies.

“Got him?” Q shifted the infant; it pushed away from him with little fists and a sobby wail of surprise and confusion at being handed over. Q raised an eyebrow as the pup chewed on his fist and eyed him up.

“Yes.” His reply to M was wary. Q had half been expecting some latent instinct to kick in and to be overwhelmed with affection and the ability to sooth the child…

However, he’d merely managed to surprise it into taking pause.

He was really quite heavy. And smelt thickly of M and the man’s mate in the hallway, and vulnerability… and very very young. Blasty would smell younger still… This pup also had the blatant lacings of the dewy scent of immature omega that would eventually grow to something sweeter scented.

Curiously he ducked and sniffed the small creature’s neck in an entirely unthreatening way, most alphas felt ‘safe’ leaving their pups in the arms of omegas, so he didn’t expect M to do anything drastic. To his surprise, the babe nearly screamed in delight and grabbed at his face and hair.

“Luh!” Q pulled back, wincing, and watched the pup carefully for signs it was broken.

“Ah, sorry, his nanny calls him love, now he’s decided that’s the name of every omega save his mother.” Q blinked at M, who was hurriedly scrawling what looked like an intense to-do list for Tanner, and then turned back to look at the pup just in time to lean away from an attempt on his glasses.

“That’s alright. What’s his name?”

“Stuart.”

“Mwa!” The pup insisted, reaching for Q’s face as the older omega leant back, fearing smudge marks and glass-in-child’s-eye. “Mwa?” A little less sure. Something horrid shot through Q’s spine at the confused and slightly upset frown over brown eyes, remembering the expression from himself when young and desperately needing that to stop because it was a horrible feeling.

“What does he want?” M looked up with a frown at Q’s perhaps slightly unnecessarily urgent voice and expression.

“A kiss.” M informed, looking a little concerned for a moment before getting distracted by the list once more. “Are you alright? Give me a minute and I’ll take him again.”

“Okay.” Q looked apologetically at the child and bent his head around wringing fingers to kiss the pup’s chubby cheek.

“Mwa!” A bit of a plea, Q looked up at M, panicked. The man didn’t return the gaze in favor of scribbling.

“You need to make the noise too, or else he wont be satisfied.” There was a certain pinched tone that suggested M had been through this charade a few times before. Q couldn’t remember being as forward as Stuart when he was a pup, but then, it was probably much, much better this way. So, dutifully he planted another kiss on the pup’s cheek with the required smooch noise…maybe a bit quieter and more confused than the pup was used to. But still, it seemed to do the trick.

Stuart accepted his affection and proceeded to fiddle with the buttons on Q’s cardigan. Feeling this was safer ground than his glasses, Q left him to it. Moving back towards M, baby balanced half on his hip and happily curling a leg around his belly, the omega peered over the man’s desk and at the list.

“Shopping?” M shot a ‘don’t judge me whilst I outrank you’ look at his quartermaster.

“I wouldn’t ask him if it wasn’t important.”

“A shopping list…for Tanner?” Q asked, voice perfectly calm, attempting not to laugh.

“The in laws are coming round tonight. Daniel needs some things and I need to leave the office on time. Which means Tanner isn’t going anywhere…”

“Then who- Oh, no.” M met him with another deadly look. “You can’t send my mate shopping he’s a bloody double oh!”

“Certain sacrifices-“

“No! He’s worth more than…than secretarial work!” Q defended James with hushed anger, wary of the pup in his arms watching his every move.

“There’s no one else-“

“There’s anyone else! I could spare any number from my branch-“

“They’re not secure.”

“Why can’t your mate go?”

“Because he’s-“ Mallory cut himself off sharply and took a deep breath. “He’s a bit stressed out with the baby at the moment, and our oldest is under the weather. Its not fair on him.” Q felt some previously unknown coil unwind from his chest. M clearly cared for his omega to the point where he wasn’t even angry with the man for entering MI6 unannounced and bringing a baby with him. Flustered, certainly, but not angry or resentful. Q took a deep breath and sighed.

“If you give me a moment, I can have someone secure deliver what you need unobtrusively. He’s very trustworthy and very discreet in his dealings. Government contact, you could say.” M eyed Q carefully.

“I wont have danger in my home Q. Would you let this man deliver to your house?”

“Yes.” Whatever else, Q knew he could trust his brothers to be there when he needed them, if only to be infuriating. M deflated and sank into his chair.

“Then thank you, Q. I’ll get to work on that budgetary increase.” Offering a small smile Q dug for his phone and managed to call Mycroft without dislodging the pup, who was inexplicably still in his arms, sucking on small fingers and staring at him. Whilst the dialing tone sounded, the young boy reached out in M’s direction.

“Dada?” Q’s pulse sped a bit at the word, and corresponding smile lighting up M’s tired face as the alpha stood to retrieve his pup. There was something just so natural about the whole thing that it was almost heart warming.

Too much, really.

Q blamed the hormones. He had never been brought to endeared cooing by anything not containing electric circulatory before, and he wouldn’t start now just because the scent of family and happy pup was in the room enough to make the office seem homely. No, thank you.

_“To what to I owe the pleasure?”_

“Hello, I need a favor if possible, second hand.” Mycroft’s corresponding hum of acceptance and intrigue let Q know that his brother understood this was a no-names but trusted contact.

_“Very well, what is needed?”_

“Just a shopping list. Time difficulties.”

_“I see.”_

“I’m sending a copy over. Shouldn’t be too much work.”

_“And address.”_

“Yes.”

_“And do I get a return for this favor or should I stock it up?”_ Q smiled at that, and Mycroft’s put upon expression. Wary of his audience, the omega continued carefully.

“If left to your judgment…?”

_“There are a couple of favors I may ask in return. I have some old boxes that need clearing out of the house. And a walk through to see if I’ve missed anything.”_

Q’s blood ran cold for a moment. Mycroft was selling their old home? Or just marketing it up. Did he want Q to go back there to check it was secure? Or maybe to re-vamp the security which was likely outdated so Mycroft could feel more comfortable. Maybe to make sure the alpha hadn’t missed any hidden spots that Q or even Sherlock would be more likely to know about.

It was an impossible thing to even comprehend, really.

_“That would be it, Aster.”_ With a gulp, Q swallowed that news… closure? Did he even need it? Did he even want it? Did it make sense?

“Considerable.” He finally answered, an answer his brother would have to accept. “I’ll leave you to it.”

_“Thank you.”_ Mycroft’s gratitude for Q even considering the idea of visiting his old home at least indicated the levity with which his older brother posed the request. Q could probably refuse without a problem. Taking that as strength Q rang off, quickly scanned and forwarded the list, and managed a calm smile at M. He’d worry about the favor later, when he was home and could talk to James.

“Taken care of Sir.” M was watching him with a hint of appraisal at the tension in Q’s shoulders, the omega internally kicking himself for being easy to read, but thankfully said nothing.

“Excellent, send Bond away on your way out, and let Tanner know I’ll call him shortly.”

“Yes sir.” Q nodded, smiled a little at the contented Stuart that was chewing M’s tie, and turned around to leave, glad for the chance at escape.

 

-00Q00-

 

Villiers had looked impressed when the crying finally stopped.

“Didn’t think he was up to the challenge?” Bond teased. He was trying to play nice, he remembered what this man had second-handedly done for Q. But at the same time it was hard to bury the old barbs of snark that he and the omega had dug into each other during Villiers’ time as M’s aide.

“Well, either he’s broke a two month cycle of twenty minute long separation anxiety or he’s relinquished Stuart to the arms of someone other than me or the nanny for the first time. Either way he’s exceeding my expectations.”

Bond didn’t know whether to cringe at the concept of 20 minute separation anxiety attacks in a one-year old or spend time entertaining his mind with the idea of Mallory being ferally protective of his omega offspring…

To be fair, Bond didn’t think he would be much different; he was protective enough of Q as it was, let alone whoever their Blasty turned out to be.

Luckily, it wasn’t long before Q came out, interrupting Villiers and Eve from nattering. Of course it made sense that they knew each other with all the work the female alpha had done for M.

“We’re free to go.” Q said to James, looking relieved and a little ruffled under his mask of calm indifference. “M’s going to be in contact.” The omega addressed Tanner, who nodded and left in no small amount of relief.

“What’s got him so flustered?” James asked after the retreating man. Q couldn’t hide a smirk.

“I think M wanted him to give you a mission to Tesco.” The alpha swung to his mate, who put on a superior expression. “Don’t worry, I defended you.” James grinned whilst Q smirked a little.

“I’ll have to think of a reward.” Eve coughed, though she looked amused, and Q smiled a bit bashfully, nodded at her and Villiers and turned to leave.

Villiers paused him with a hand to the shoulder and careful sniff. Q blinked at him before the other omega smiled.

“Thank you, I appreciate the help.” Q nodded, accepted a casual cheek-cheek rub with stunned surprise and watched the other omega walk calmly back into M’s office. Eve looked as if she might burst out laughing any minute.

“Umm-“

“You’ve never been cheek nuzzled before?” Q absentmindedly frowned and rubbed his face.

“Not since I was in uni. I thought it was something you grew out of throughout the course of MI6.” Eve sniggered yet still managed to look attractive. James wrapped an arm around Q’s waist and sniffed at him.

“Well, you did just soothe his pup, he’s probably feeding off your hormones as well.”

“Well I wish he wouldn’t. I have an image to maintain.”

“The iron fist of Q branch?” Eve teased. Q grumbled at her.

“Don’t growl at me. What was it like anyway?” Q frowned at the question from Eve as if it was an annoyance.

“My first time holding a pup.” He commented. James tugged him a little, fingertips subtly pressing into the give of his mate’s swelling belly.

“And?” He prompted, curiously. Q turned dour eyes on him.

“Well I didn’t break it.” He remarked candidly. James grinned again.

“Good start.”

“Something like that.”

“Better to practice on somebody else’s pup first.”

“Definitely.”

“You two are terrible.” Eve condemned. James just smirked and nuzzled into Q’s neck until the man was grinning and chuckling a little at the tickle. Eve threw up her hands in mock exasperation and walked away, though she kept looking back at them with a fond grin.

Really, Villiers wasn’t so bad, James thought as he walked Q back to his branch.

 

-00Q00-

 

In actuality, it wasn’t until Sunday that Q got round to telling James about Mycroft’s suggestion. The day Villiers came to visit there was a small crisis.

Of course, there didn’t have to be. But since M was out Q saw no trouble in overseeing a little bit later. James was game, since his agents were the ones in the field. Q was simply feeling hyper aware of both M having a family to spend time with and trying to not think about the request from his own.

At seven, Q was glad he’d stayed. One of the agents had arrived straight into Czech to find a gunfight and her cover blown. James had demanded on the comm., drawing Q away from his work looking at the increasingly concerning China report to the commotion building mid-way down the branch. Communications were sounding fraught, though still just about in control… considering James breathing over their shoulders. Q flashed up the screens, saw the deteriorating situations, saw the agent –a miss Oliver- becoming increasingly lost whilst fighting injury.

“Double oh seven.” Q called over the loud speaker he had to the branch. His alpha looked up, tension radiating even through glass doors, the work force looking relieved. “Can you calm her?” The omega brought up the audio for the mission, increasingly frantic sounding. Evidently the target had been expecting her.

As indirect head of intelligence Q was infuriated at the slip. Baptism of fire indeed. He wouldn’t get involved weren’t it for James’ request and the slip in secrecy. As it was, he saw his mate nodding, and returned the gesture in kind.

“Then get her to listen to me. I’m granting you access.”

It was a short and quick combination. James wrangled his young agent’s full attention with some short, sharp directions. Q directed wordlessly through secure phone commands and contacted a team from the MI6 division out there to meet her and recalculate.

It turned into a long night. The first one Q had had for a while. Still, at least they got home. James wasn’t speaking very much. Although they had re-corrected the approach and the mission was back on track, the alpha was having his first experience with sending people to their fates as others had done for him.

Considering that fact, Q thought James was taking it rather well, and stepped up his own surveillance on the five missions.

By the end of the week one mission had been completed, two were underway, Oliver was regrouping and the final agent was lying in wait. Q suggested forgoing house hunting on Saturday, but James insisted in a tense huff.

Q didn’t push it. He could tell his mate was attempting to convince himself to let the recruits handle it on their own. Q kept his phone hooked into MI6.

When Oliver got into another situation James flew off back to MI6 faster than a shot. Q could survey the mission from anywhere and casually made their excuses to the estate agent, following his alpha at a more sedate pace. Of course, James had taken the time to commandeered a cab and promptly bundled Q into it before getting them both back there.

Surprisingly Oliver managed her kill, and Q ordered the extraction team, pondering appraisingly on the determination he’d heard in her tone at the end. She’d learnt something. Whether it would be enough remained to be seen. Still, it had been another long night in a long week, and Q was looking forward to just going home and sleeping it off.

Sunday was calmer. Two of James’ agents had completed missions and were en-route back. A third was chasing a lead, two more ready to strike. Q’s insides had been eating him a little in between the distractions.

“James, there’s something-“ The ringing of Q’s MI6 phone had him rolling his eyes as James sprang to attention.

_“Q, its double oh five, deep undercover mission in China has been blown, he’s had to make a snatch and grab.”_

“Shit.” Q swore and stood, hiding his wince of dizziness. “I’m en route, expect me in twenty-“

_“We don’t have twenty, I need to patch you through now.”_ Changing route to his laptop on the sofa instead of the door, Q pulled it open.

“Alright, ready to receive.”

It took four hours to get 005 out of harms way and facilitate an emergency download of the botch-job stolen files.

“Status double oh.” Q demanded, keeping his voice calm, 005 had been sounding increasingly shaky. He was their only beta double oh, an impressive feat. Raised in the streets and then SAS 005 was tough as nails and built like a tank. He never sounded shaky. James was sitting by gravely. The data transfer was finished and Q was working on an extraction team.

Nothing but panting sounded over the line. Q cast James a sharp look, the alpha sitting forwards and eyes piercing.

“Report double oh!” Q ordered firmly, and listened to the heavy breathing over the connection.

_“…They stuck me with something Q.”_ The bottom fell out of Q’s stomach and scant seconds later he was hailing a medical team.

“Did you catch that R?”

_“Yes.”_

“Double oh five, I need you to focus, describe what your experiencing to me.” It felt wrong that this was happening in their own home. The agent started identifying the signs of the chemicals on the report M had handed to him earlier in the week and Q covered the mic as he swore, blocked the connection to 005 whilst he directed R.

“Get me Bio Chemics and inform M.”

_“Already done.”_

“God I love you sometimes R.” Q remarked dryly as he called up his research, 005’s file and hailed the medical team on their way.

“Protocol 291, agent under influence of unknown toxin, maintain quarantine and slow symptoms with small repeated doses of anti-inflammatory medication, no known allergies. Putting you in contact with Bio Chemics lab.”

_“Roger. Approaching location, ETA two minutes.”_

“Double oh five medical team is two minutes out, they have instructions, we’ll get you home…”

What proceeded was a long and complicated hour of his best bio scientists rushing increased tests of cures for the drug and responding with M and the medical team on site. 005 wasn’t doing much better on the limited research they’d managed to conduct with four days of testing.

They managed to stabilize him about the same time the agent stopped feeling his legs and started bleeding from the ears.

“Double oh five en route back to England, the lab is working on anything they can, we can’t do more until we have the results from biopsy tests. No way to know how brain function is.”

M responded solemnly to Q’s flat voice, and rang off.

Q dropped the connection. He felt sick and soul destroyed. Silently he e-mailed a copy of all the report, medical and drug information to M. After a moments pause he forwarded the chemical report to Sherlock with a request to ‘take a look’ and a description of the symptoms. He left out the mission report but couldn’t fight the deep down pull that his scientifically experimentative brother would be able to find something everyone else overlooked.

James had barely moved by the time Q turned off the laptop. Neither of them were any use at Six.

Feeling pale, Q leant back and covered his face, James had been privy to the entire thing, and wordlessly went to get them both cups of tea. Q tried not to entertain the swirling ‘what if’s and guilt; to have been quicker with the drug analysis, that 005 should have told them earlier rather than being noble… it wasn’t helpful and he had gone through the cycle multiple time before for multiple agents. It got a little harder when pregnant and emotional, apparently.

By the time James returned with tea and they were sitting next to each other, Q started to feel a bit like the cloying threat was leaving their house.

“Louis Dior is a good agent.” Bond finally broke the silence, Q remaining mute and attempting detachedness from the stress of their jobs next to him. “He once drunk me under the table-“

“He’s not dead yet James.” Q snapped, tea sloshing as he shoved the mug onto the coffee table and stood to turn away, breathe, run a hand carefully over his escaping hair. “God I feel sick.” James stood silently and Q shrugged off the questioning hand as he started to tremble.

“I’m fine. I’ll be fine. Fuck. And to think I was worried about Mycroft-“

“What about Mycroft?” James’ voice was tense and mission sharp. Q shook his head and proceeded to try and press away an oncoming headache.

“Nothing. He had a request, stupid compared to…” Q flapped his hand vaguely over at the laptop. “Wanted me to go over to our old home with him, help clear out some stuff or re-do the electrics. Seems so stupid in the grand scheme of things.”

James was silent for a bit, and then sighed out with a small laugh. Q turned to him incredulously.

“Thank god. I thought you were having more pain, you’ve been tense all week.” Q frowned before his confusion turned to dismay.

“I’ve been setting you off?” James pulled him in close, tightly. It felt strange to have his swollen stomach press up against his mate’s flat one. Different but calming.

“I’ve been tense anyway. I probably didn’t help tonight.” The mood sobered again and Q curled tighter into James.

“I don’t like when one of you are out there alone and injured. Its not right.”

“Yet it happens. More often than we’d like too.” Q nuzzled into James’ neck and bit slightly before licking apologetically. The alpha repeated the gesture with a much more grounding pressure that Q relaxed into, sighing.

“…We can’t help at MI6.”

“No.”

“There wouldn’t be any point in going in. I can’t work in the bio hazard lab anyway.”

“Exactly.”

“And double oh five is unconscious as it is.”

“True.”

“…Do you want to stay here and decrypt the files?”

“Thought you’d never ask. Lets catch these bastards.”

“I’ll fire up the laptop, you get the kettle.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> M's mate is revealed!!! For anyone confused/wondering: yes, Villiers is a character in the James Bond movie franchise. He's the equivalent of Tanner in Casino Royale as far as I can figure... But the name Daniel is made up, he wasn't given a first name in the film.  
> So he left, entered government and met Bureaucrat!M, and love and babies happened. (great succinct summary!)  
> They have 3 kids: alpha Matthew, alpha Beth & omega Stuart. (I thought they'd pick 'sensible' names...)  
> Anyway MAJOR credit for that idea goes to the lov-e-ly Thallys, I really just took what she gave me and turned Villiers into a bit of a badass... xD Thank you darling!  
> Hope you all enjoyed him, anyway, there will be more of him on occasions ;3
> 
> Other than that, I HAVE MADE IT TO THE NEXT STAGE OF INTERVIEW MWAHAHAHA...okay calm. I have a one day work trial whoop! Thanks for wishing me luck if you did, I took it with me in a sandwich bag x3
> 
> Thank you for reading, and hopefully enjoying, love you all!


	23. H0: Home is where the heart is; H1: What if the hearts are lost?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ohh no so late! Dang it and just after getting back on time too!  
> Ah well, I had someone staying over since Monday, and I couldn't relax back into writing... because I'm slightly unsocial...and entertaining really took it out of me!
> 
> But this is a long one, so I hope that makes up slightly n_n
> 
> Also: I know nothing of the village of Mordiford and mean no offence. If anyone's from around there feel free to be smug.
> 
> Mild **Warning!:** character's emotional distress.

Locating and disposing of 005’s attackers took four days of gruelling hard work. Creating a preventative drug for what turned out to be primarily a toxin-based weapon took three. Sherlock discovered a combination that would help the body recover in one.

It took just five minutes to tell 005 he’d never see active service again.

In ten, M had offered him a desk job.

Q knew that both James and Alec had been down to visit the agent in the week, but to be honest he’d just been too busy to manage until lunchtime on Thursday. He ventured into the private room of medical; no escape from MI6 for the downed agent, and was met by Louis Dior looking both bored and depressed, though a little curious to see his quartermaster.

“Wondered when you’d be down Q.” the omega lingered in the doorway, leaning against the frame and casting a long look over one of his best agents.

“Coordinating the counter attack, it’s launching tonight.” He kept his voice level and calm. The agent met his gaze. “We’ll get them, double oh five.” He added lightly, assured that everything would go smoothly with the amount of work everyone had been piling in.

“Not double oh five anymore really am I?” Q shrugged and moved into the room a bit more.

“You are to me, and will be up until the point where we breach the double oh hundreds and have to restart the count, but none of us will be there to see that. Might as well keep the title.”

“For all its worth?” Q allowed him that one. There was silence for a moment.

“Even double oh eight’s pulling his weight this time, I think you can be safe in your reputation.” 005 glanced up and down his quartermaster.

“All I’ve got now I suppose.” The man stretched before raising an eyebrow. “Still, guess you’ve been with this all with Bond, and he wasn’t even sidelined for injury.” Q knew better than to take it to heart. The man had lost the use of his legs, how could Q complain.

“And I never even got an exploding pen.” Dior mused, Q smiled a little.

“Those things are practically in circulation these days, what with all the ones Bond looses. I’m sure you’ll pick one up somewhere.” 005 looked over him again. “What?”

“You really are swelling now.” Q rolled his eyes at the man’s grin.

“If you touch my stomach without asking permission I will punch you, double oh five. Patient or not.”

“Duly noted.” The man laughed, Q managed a more genuine smile.

“Here, in case you want to listen in.” Q chucked over the cued up phone he’d wired to secondarily receive the mission audio tonight. “I won’t have you escaping to get involved, and I hear you’re being offered Logistics.” 005 didn’t respond, staring at the phone, and Q headed for the door. Just as he pulled the handle shut the agent called his name. Q looked at him.

“Cheers for this.” Q glanced over the po-faced agent and offered a small smile that was half smirk before nodding and making his exit.

Everything did go smoothly. And ended at two in the morning. Other than a mountainous heap of data and information to pool through, job done.

Q was exhausted for the first time in weeks. He’d already told James to be keeping an eye on the last of his recruits coming home and not to wait up. If the alpha hadn’t been stressed and sleep deprived all week with his invaluable help to both this mission and the ones his newbie’s were on, he probably wouldn’t have listened.

“Just one excruciatingly aggravating tube ride left and your home.” Q pep-talked himself whilst shutting off his computer, straightening his aching back with a snap and trying to ignore the building headache. He looked down at his rounded stomach, stroking for a moment and then patting.

“Come on then pup, lets go home.”

Talking to Blasty had become something of a comfort, and a little whir of excitement to imagine that the tiny thing could actually hear him.

Well, not so tiny now, really. The pup growing inside him was just bigger than his cupped hands, and his cupped hands couldn’t even think about spanning his stomach.

At five months pregnant, Q was now well and truly into his maternity clothes. A fact he was hardly joyous about. His belly preceded him into rooms, not horrendously so, but noticeable enough. Everyone in the vicinity could see he was expecting, and more often than not Q was torn between putting his hands and arms around his belly to protect it, and attempting to take attention away from it somehow.

There wasn’t really much he had to fear; people were notoriously careful with anyone pregnant, but he didn’t want to encourage touching.

Of course, at 2:00 am on the underground he was more worried about the occasional raver or drugged looking individual getting over friendly or attempting to take advantage somehow. Luckily it was September, and drizzling. This meant he could get away with shielding himself with a parka –the only item of clothing that would fit him regardless for another couple of weeks.

Q wasn’t sure he could survive the winter without his trusty parka, but was glad that Blasty got to experience it at least briefly. He’d had it for as long into uni as he could remember.

The walk from the station to their flat wasn’t long, and was happily deserted.

“Wonder what your Daddy’s doing hmm? Sleeping I hope. I’m sure he’d have appeared out of nowhere by now otherwise.” Q rambled, rubbing the top of his belly. He felt relaxed, if knackered, for the first time in over a week. It was a relief to put the China situation to rest. He’d owe Sherlock a favour for the quick and brilliant help, but Q didn’t doubt for a moment that his brother would collect.

Most of his fret was now based in Mycroft’s request. There were a lot of reasons that Q couldn’t stand the thought of going back to his old house… then again, some part of him wondered if he could settle on a new house without laying that one to rest.

The logic was probably impaired, but he wondered if he was strong enough now… with James by his side, of course.

Besides, if Mycroft did want him to re-wire anything, better now than when he could no longer bend down without requiring a forklift to straighten.

Movement wasn’t exactly getting easier, though he wasn’t uncomfortable usually. This week had been so long though that his back was aching with petulant venom.

James wasn’t much better off, with all the stress he’d been under. Stress he couldn’t physically act upon. But now that all his recruits had made it back safely, waiting for debrief or assessment, the man could finally sleep.

Unlocking the door Q was met with the sight of his alpha sprawled asleep on the sofa like some reclining lion. He smiled, shed coat and shoes, and went to crouch down by the blonde’s head. He grimaced briefly at stepping over the pregnancy book it looked like James had been reading, and then again when his back protested at bending down.

Thus he ended in a barely dignified collapse onto the floor, an ‘oof’ of surprise escaping him as he grabbed the arm of the sofa for support and jostled James awake with a start and grunt.

“Q?” The omega laughed quietly.

“Sorry darling, you can go back to sleep.” James grumbled something inarticulate and with an impressive movements show of muscles pulled Q onto the sofa.

“Day off tomorrow?”

“Mhmm.” James’ slur of the word ‘excellent’ got lost somewhere in translation as the alpha pulled Q over him.

Adjusting and shifting gradually Q snuggled into a more comfortable position with his stomach free from pressure. The horizontal position was all he needed to feel the week catching up on him.

James’ hand slid warmly around his belly and the man nosed into his hair, breathing deeply.

“Did you get them?” Q breathed out a long sigh of calm and closed his eyes, settling in.

“Yes.” James’ growl of satisfaction into his neck was just as good as words, and Q gave in to the desire to sleep.

 

-00Q00-

 

The pair woke to the shrill blaring of Darth Vader’s theme tune.

“I swear every time your brother rings he does it to test my trigger finger.” James grumbled as Q shook himself awake, secondarily feeling the bracketing hand of James on his hip as he reached for the phone.

“Just be glad he doesn’t know this is his theme tune or we’d be testing his trigger finger.” Q replied, fumbling on the coffee table before registering the vibrations from his pocket. Groaning he went to sit up, and for the first time couldn’t manage, falling back to the couch with a surprised little yelp.

The angle had been a tough one to get up from, to be fair.

James caught him soundly and wrapped arms around him, pulling them both up steadily with abdominal strength alone.

“Careful Q.” The alpha chided, some worry in his voice. Q patted James’ thigh to calm the man before retrieving the stubbornly repeating telephone.

He could almost picture Mycroft drumming his fingers.

“I’m fine, just didn’t account for half-human I’m carrying.” James huffed in half amusement and half exasperation at his words as Q finally answered the call.

“Hello?”

_“Aster, I trust you’re well, I heard you have a day off.”_

“Please do stop stalking me Mycroft, I find it immensely tiresome.”

_“Not stalking, only observing.”_ Q mumbled some undistinguishable mulish words in response, and received Mycroft clearing his throat impatiently.

“Right, right. How can I help?” Clearly his brother was in a hurry.

_“I wanted to know if you had considered my request further.”_

“My…” Q begun, a bit helplessly, he wasn’t awake enough for this.

_“I wouldn’t ask, except that I am due to be there to pick up some files this afternoon anyway, which would give you time to get there… I’m not sure when I’ll next be available during your schedule.”_ The words made Q pause entirely, a breath leaving him in a soft rush.

“Oh,” Mycroft wanted to be there for him. The concern rang clear and true, and was somehow immensely comforting that his brother didn’t want him to go through that alone. Recognised that it would be hard for him and wanted Q to have a presence to lean on. It took a moment to sink in deeply, pleasantly.

“I’ll have James with me.” Q reminded softly, mostly so that Mycroft wouldn’t worry.

_“I’m aware, but none the less, I would…feel better being there too.”_

The staggered words made Q smile gently. Honesty was coming more naturally to Mycroft these days, at least around the omega. It was half flattering and half satisfying. And a lot surprising.

Q shook his head slightly in vague wonder at just when it had started going _right_ with his family.

“Give me a minute.” Switching Mycroft onto hold, more than a little satisfying really, Q turned to James. The man was propped on his elbows and regarding Q steadily. With the eye contact the agent reached out and ran a hand up and down Q’s arm.

“I heard.” Of course, hawk hearing that his mate had. Q raised a questioning brow.

“What do you think?”

“It’s your choice Q.” James pointed out, not unkindly.

“I know…” He mused for a bit, looking at the phone in his hands. “Do you mind?” A hand slipped into the base of his hair, squeezing his nape gently, calmingly.

“Not at all.” Q took a breath and without turning back took Mycroft off hold and raised the phone to his ear.

“Okay. Today, I can make it. We’ll be there about two.”

_“I shall see you there then.”_ Mycroft replied, a little pleasant surprise in his voice. The connection dropped and Q’s thumbs rubbed over the phone slightly, hoping he’d made the right decision and could put this to rest.

His stomach roiled.

 

-00Q00-

 

_Familiar countryside._

Q gazed out the window almost in a haze of flickering memories as James steered the Aston off the A438 and away from the approaching Hereford. It was all so very, terribly familiar.

“Trust your family to live somewhere called ‘Mordiford’.” James commented with subtle amusement. Q just kept his eyes on the approaching river, the view of hills and rolling greenery. There was more farmland than he remembered.

What amount of Q’s childhood he had spent outside had been exploring the rises and falls, hills and forests, copses and thickets and rivers, ponds. Anything his beta sibling had heard of or needed investigating, or simply traipsing after his whirlwind of a brother in stormy weather and rain, mist, as Sherlock strode and ranted and tried to escape.

Not far was the old long abandoned house they’d found…and took things from after sampling the out of date tinned-food left behind from the war.

There were ruins they’d stumbled across or aimed for.

Half the time Sherlock was barely in charge, but needed somewhere to go to escape or think, Q either following or being dragged along behind him.

They drove a little way out of the village, skirting the pub where Sherlock had practiced lock-picking skills. Q had gotten them in, in the end, but then the owner had chased them away.

The walls they used to walk along.

The way he used to walk back from school after cutting through multiple fields to make a straight line.

Along the familiar country road…

“Here, next drive on the right.” There were houses every so often along here, and the Holmes family home sprung up just as he remembered it. Shielded from view at first by tall trees and hedges.

Q’s eyes widened a bit to be hit with the sight through the windscreen.

Tall, imposing. Dark brickwork and slanted roof, the building stood a little way down from iron fence and neatly kept hedges, bushes. The roses Mummy had always enjoyed, the ones Sherlock had thought poisoned by the gardener one time.

The windows looked down on him like eyes.

The only noticeable difference was Mycroft’s newest sleek car in the sandy-coloured gravel entrance.

The oldest Holmes had only made slight differences, otherwise maintaining the original features.

“Hm.” James commented non-descriptively, and looked across to Q. “Want me to throw her in reverse?” The omega breathed out with a small laugh and shook his head, moving to get out.

Mycroft appeared in the doorway and came out with a smile to greet them. Q couldn’t stop looking up, though he couldn’t see his room from this side.

“Aster, James.” The two alphas shook hands before Mycroft turned to him, placed a hand on his arm at nearly the exact same time James did. “I’ve sent the staff away, thought it would be quieter.”  
Somewhat surprising himself Q took a few steps forward before turning back to the other two. They were frowning at him, James’ considerably more ready for aggression.

“Will you give me a minute? Alone?” With a sharp nod, James agreed, eyes not leaving Q’s in silent support. Mycroft just looked weary, sad, but understanding.

“I’ll show you the grounds.” Mycroft turned to James.

Q faced the house again, took a breath and went towards the front door.

The inside was slightly less dark than his memories; ones of a house filled with rooms devoid of natural light.

Most of the furniture was new too, and the carpets had been redone. The walls were the same dark gleaming wood, the fireplace clean and stacked with logs.

He almost didn’t want to touch, but found himself tracing fingers along the walls as he poked his head into the kitchen, briefly the other downstairs rooms.

But…this really wasn’t the house as he knew it.

Not really.

Trailing back to the stairs Q bent and prised open the cupboard under it, finding it full of the usual stored items of housekeepers. His fingers searched the back wall, tested the give of dusty wood, and found it creak with a grin.

Carefully, he slipped inside, barely fitting, and scooched in an awkward crouch through the grating he had hinged.

It was an undignified belly crawl to get into the small wooden spaces he’d navigated as a child. There were holes to climb through to get up to the higher floors, a series of drops to get down to the basement.

Their house must have been extended from another long ago with little thought for it, because there were whole rooms closed off from everything but the small array of paths.

The dust made him cough, and he couldn’t hope to climb, but after some squeezing and delicate struggling Q reached one of his favourite places.

An old set of stairs, leading down to a closed off bit of basement. Halfway down, he stopped with a small breath of wonder, and sank gently to his knees.

In a tucked away alcove, partially concealed by a wall and probably designed for servants to pass each other, lay the remains of…himself.

His fingers ghosted wonderingly over the hurried folds of blanket and old pillows stolen from the laundry. The nest would have just fit him as a teenager, but out of some pull of curiosity Q settled into it awkwardly, legs sticking out into the stairs.

The position brought into eyesight a series of bricks removed from the wall and an almost table littered with wiring and tools, an old headlamp, a torch, what looked like the beginnings of an abandoned project; possibly a pressure sensor, though Q couldn’t truly remember why he had been making it. Or when it had been abandoned.

He hadn’t had time or the capacity to clear out everything when he’d run away. These little boltholes were probably all populated with his early attempts at engineering.

Taking the small, palm-sized collection of metal and wires in hand, Q pressed the sensor pressure-pad absently and huffed a laugh at the idea he could have made a land mine with this basic system. Not that he’d been into weapons as much back then.

It was all a bit surreal. Q leant back onto the cold wall with a long breath.

“Don’t show your uncles or father, but this is where I used to spend my childhood.” He huffed, disbelieving in the situation he was in. Talking to his unborn pup, sitting in the place where he’d used to be as a pup.

“I hope there aren’t any more stress hormones I’m breathing into you. If there are, ignore them, I’m happy now. So it’s not the me you’ll know, not really.” Q looked around at the pile of equipment and flicked on the torch out of curiosity. There was a prick of pain and it flashed into bleary life, Q brought the torch closer for inspection, checking his thumb to find a small nick as from a diabetic’s kit. There was a green light just above the on switch, and an array of buttons for different settings beyond that. Q laughed softly and shook his head at the memory vaguely of his first foray into personalised equipment. Something only he, an omega, could use had seemed so very appealing.

Even if his first attempts towards the palm-coded Walther he was so admired for had been rather morbid, he couldn’t help but be proud of it.

A torch that had settings from black light to rainbow to standard to SOS, and turned on at the touch of hormones in omega blood was as delightful and fantastical as it was crude and muddled.

“Remind me to make you one of these… possibly less gruesome.” Q said, and then flicked the rainbow setting on and flashed it towards his belly.

“…And I promise, if you ever need to hide away, I’ll let you do what you have to… Although I hope, really, that you’ll never have to.”

On his way out of the alcove, Q cast it a fond but melancholic smile and nod, and pocketed the torch, though he left the sensor to be immortalized however time wanted.

The other tunnels and crevices revealed similar findings, though Q mostly left them untouched, or simply wiped them free of dust. There were more turn-on-by-blood items, including a second torch, and he briefly wondered what a history team would make of the findings in hundreds of years.

Well, not all of it was so well made as to survive that long. But the thought was rather entertaining.

Q squeezed back into the house proper, shaking off dust and closing the doors to his childhood world behind him. Possibly for the last time.

It was hard to feel strongly one way or another about it. The whole house felt different, smaller and cold without the personal touch of his boltholes.

The memories outside weren’t ones that came clearly or wanted dwelling on.

Out of duty, perhaps, Q climbed up to his old room. At the second to top of the house and on the same floor as Sherlock’s, just round the corner and three steps up.

He opened the door, and was met with an entirely unchanged realm.

His bed was even made.

Unable to go in for a moment, Q went to check and found Sherlock’s the same, the bathroom the same. Feeling a bit easier from that knowledge, Q ventured over the threshold to his childhood room.

The view was his favourite part, and that hadn’t changed much either, though as with the rest of the house, it felt smaller.

Crossing to the panes of glass he looked over the misty, rain could-covered countryside in deep greens. He could almost remember the drizzly rain and Sherlock calling his name and to hurry up as the older boy stomped and strode off.

_Too big welly boots._ Q remembered, absurdly, and shook his head with a sigh, melancholia rising over the fondness he’d had in the hiding holes.

Voices, muted by glass, startled his rising morose mood, and he moved closer to the glass to see James and Mycroft returning from the end of the garden. _The house feels dead._ Q thought as he knocked on the window and watched James look up. Placing a hand to the glass, he saw his mate nod and Mycroft indicate the way inside.

With a miserable, numb and crumpled feeling, Q walked a few paces, turned and flopped onto his bed backwards. Stared at the ceiling.

The place felt like a husk. Different enough yet similar… It was the itch of a remembered wound that lingered over a scar. Something unsightly and yet a part of the body… maybe fond in memory, maybe not.

Without the people in it, without Q himself being in the same state of mind, it was just… inconsequential. Numbing. Nothing.

Yet… he’d grown up here, been formed and shaped and moulded here… it was important, but not in the ways that mattered to him. How could he hang on to something that had caused so much misery? He’d spent most of his childhood blocking it out as it was.

The countryside he could remember fondly, the boltholes even more…the house? Well.

He could remember his parents, but without them here, and Sherlock’s brooding presence, Mycroft’s overbearing one, his own insecurities…

Q shook himself as James knocked on the open door and peered in. Q raised an eyebrow from the bed and looked over at him, gesturing around vaguely.

“What do you think?” He asked, as if he was one of their estate agents from the houses they had visited.

James looked around as he came in, door creaking, and shrugged, hands in pockets.

“I think I don’t see you anywhere.” Q offered a smile, small though it was.

“All the pictures are in albums. Mycroft can bring them over sometime.” He shrugged, not up to looking at the place with everyone in it whilst trapped inside.

James looked him up and down before frowning slightly.

“You’re covered in dust.” The alpha descended on him and slipped up his body to rest over him, pressing a kiss to Q’s lips.

Maybe the feel of being trapped under an alpha here should be emotional…but it was just somehow a spark of exhilaration amidst the numb.

Q pressed up to kiss James, and when he pulled back James followed him.

They traded kisses for a bit, slowly rolling onto sides and James’ hands sliding under parker and clothes to press up the bare skin of back.

He felt alive and strong, and Q curled into him, lips searching for the beat of pulse at his mate’s neck and mouthing it, sucking kisses and slow grazes of teeth there. His hands roamed over James’ muscular body and delighted in squeezing and stroking strong limbs, finally pressing to his chest, feeling his heart beat.

Q wondered what his child-self would think if he had known this moment. Would he have been repulsed? Proud? Confused by Q’s choices? Would he understand, or simply condemn Q for having a relationship. For coming back at all after getting free… Would he wonder why Q wasn’t getting pinned and taken-

The very thought left him shuddering and flinching deeper into James’ kiss, as if to take the concept away. But it seemed the floodgates of curiosity had opened somewhere.

Would his mother be proud of him? He’d never gotten to find out, she’d been endlessly praising Mycroft but Q was hardly the person his brother was. Would she have smiled and told him he did well when he said his job was defending the country? Would she be excited he was having a child? Proud of that? Pleased with James?

If she hadn’t been so ill, he would have known her better, for longer… But maybe she wouldn’t have been proud at all. She’d been traditional too. Maybe he’d still be here trapped and sickly and fighting through heats, or mated off to someone who was deemed adequate?

Or maybe she’d have helped him through heats and become closer to them all? It was impossible to know.

Q panted shakily into James’ mouth at the whirlwind, visualising Sherlock, out of his mind on drugs, cruel and contaminated and nothing like the one from either his early childhood or adult life.

These things all changed. Endlessly, tormenting in their instability. And hadn’t that always been his problem?

Is all of this what his brothers had wondered about him when he went into that first heat they nursed him through? They’d both been here longer than him too, were potentially more screwed up.

Mycroft had never even left. Mycroft who had had to take over and become an adult when their father died. Had even seen it happen.

Q remembered the sound of him chocking, thrashing, buried his face into James’ chest and clutched at his shirt.

His father… Q couldn’t even pretend he’d have had a nice word to say. He never had. Except for ‘well groomed’ or ‘sweet natured’. What would the man have thought of Q becoming pregnant?

The idea of the man’s hands on his stomach made Q strangle out something like a snarled whine and twist into James’ arms, which wrapped around him tightly, shushing becoming apparent that he hadn’t noticed before.

Carrying pups… that would probably be the only thing his father would be proud of. Certainly wouldn’t understand his job and oh, god what if he’d tried to hurt James or Blasty or-

“Shh, Q,” He gasped out of it and was amazed to find himself crying.

The bastard was dead. Dead and gone and…and…

Choking, thrashing…

“Calm down love,”

The scent was almost memorable, the sofa pressed into his face, trying to block it out. But there was only one person making noise in his memories… a peeked vision of Mycroft standing by…

“Shh love, shh,” Q gasped back and saw his white knuckles, released them painfully to instead wrap around James. A hand cupped his cheek and pulled his face up, making him meet ice shadow blue eyes.

“Are you back with me?”

Q supposed he’d known it all along really. That Mycroft hadn’t lifted a finger to help their heart attack-struck old man.

Someone didn’t become as frightening and sure as Mycroft without taking some sort of horrifically decisive step. Protecting them all even from then, unknowing and opportunistic manslaughter.

Always the one playing the long game, intelligence an entirely different thing to Sherlock’s for all their similarities in deduction.

“Y-yes.” Q managed, voice breathy and eyes wide, looking through James. The omega registered the frown on the blonde’s face before he was tucked back into the crook of neck and held tightly.

His eyes met instead the window, and the grey-out outside seemed to seep into his brain and calm him back down into numbness. Tears tripped from his eyes and his breaths hitched, but as the rain begun to fall properly and drew with it less surprising, more everyday memories; eating, running, tinkering, conversing… his mind calmed, quieted.

Really, he couldn’t care but feel a bit more settled at the knowledge of Mycroft’s breaking point.

Q felt drawn back into his mind and body like a lead weight, but other then managing a few tears until he was done crying, felt nothing terrible.

Just numb. Deeply numb.

Eventually he sat, somewhat glad that he and James hadn’t shagged on his childhood bed.

“Alright?” James asked, sitting with him and brushing some of Q’s messed hair back. Not trusting his voice, and too exhausted to speak for what seemed the umpth time in this pregnancy, he nodded and nuzzled James briefly before standing.

“Remind me to not be so melancholic next trimester.” Q murmured. The words met with a chortle and James’ loving gaze on him.

“Maybe you should tell your brothers that.” Q flicked eyes up to him with a small smile.

“Oh, they’re alright, really.” The soft words were met with a raised eyebrow as James noted the change, but didn’t comment on it. Instead Q took the offered hand and let James lead him out, closing the door behind him on the room of a lost and lonely child.

 

-00Q00-

 

Mycroft was waiting for them downstairs. The man took one look at his brother’s evidently tear affected face and grew an expression of deep regret. Q paused for all of two seconds.

In his mind Mycroft was not the adult who stood before him, but the older brother who gave away so little, slightly on the large side; though Q had always liked that, to be fair. The one who had been subjected to so much pressure that it had moulded him stiffly into position… but the minds of the Holmes children had always been indomitable. One way or another.

Mycroft Holmes had had no support team, no conflicting evidence to balance against theories of his home life. If Q had been conditioned, what must Mycroft have believed?

But he’d taken steps that neither younger brother were capable of planning. There was a core of steel there-the long game, the steady participant… To have seen even a barely remembered fraction of what Mycroft was truly capable of, and to still be hugged by the man genuinely… That had to be some kind of prise, didn’t it?

Q released James after a brief hand squeeze and moved towards his oldest brother, not pausing before wrapping arms around the older alpha and pulling him close fiercely. Behind him, he could hear James subtly making himself invisible.

“You’re a good person Mycroft.” Q murmured into his brother’s shoulder, feeling the man’s arms around him twitch slightly in shocked resonance. There was a long deflation of chest against him as Mycroft relaxed morosely into the hold, voice rueful as he brought one hand to rub between Q’s shoulder blades.

The move was familiar and nearly forgotten from his childhood, before everyone became prickly and refused physical contact.

“You would be the only one to ever say that, Aster.”

“Well I shouldn’t be.” Q said firmly, voice growing in strength of conviction.

Mycroft was silent for the longest time before letting out a shaky, self-disparaging half breath, half weak laugh.

“Could you let Sherly know that one day?” the oh so slight catch at the end of that sentence nearly broke Q’s heart.

“Oh My,” Q murmured, agonised for the pair of them, all three of them, and pulled his brother in tighter. He nuzzled Mycroft’s cheek and huffed out a breath there, absently patting and rubbing his brother’s undefined back.

So sue him, Q was an omega; he liked soft and squashable things… Not that he’d ever dare to admit it out loud.

Now they just stood there for a moment, Q reaching up to stroke hair soothingly, knowing that Mycroft would end the moment soon, reign himself back in tightly and slip back into stoicism. But Q could give him this. Needed to give him this.

Slowly it occurred to the omega that this pregnancy might be the best thing that had happened to him since James for reasons he hadn’t considered. He’d never had so many moments with his brothers, never dwelled on just how intertwined and important they were to him.

Creating a new life had given him his family back.

He hadn’t known he’d been missing them.

Maybe he’d been the biggest fool of them all, but it barely mattered, now that he could have this. The closeness he’d always craved.

Predictably, Mycroft pulled back, but not before nuzzling Q, and squeezed his shoulder with a sigh when they’d pulled away.

“You two should get going if you want to get back at a reasonable time.” Mycroft announced, then managed a smile and raised eyebrows as he placed his hands over Q’s belly, gently rubbing the swell. “Have to take care of this, after all.” Q frowned.

“Didn’t you want me to help you with something?” He asked, confused. Mycroft smiled ruefully.

“I did, but I’m not sure to what exact end. I was rather hoping you could spread some light on something just by coming here, though I confess to still being undecided.”  
The alpha turned to leave, indicating Q follow him outside.

As he turned a quizzical expression on the door, James materialised like the bloody wonderful phantom menace he was and wrapped an arm around Q’s shoulders briefly.

Evidently sensing the finality of their time as Mycroft led them back to their car, James detached and leant against the driver’s side of the Aston.

“Why call us up in the first place?” James queried curiously. “Unless you wanted Q to try and program the creeping ivy into submission, or me to shoot it.” Mycroft chuckled a little at what must be a quip from their jaunt around the garden.

“Not quite.” Hands in pockets Mycroft sniffed and looked back at their family home.

“I hardly need this place anymore, I’m spending so much time in London and find the area tiresome. There are more desirable spots for a weekend retreat.” The words had an almost comical effect as Mycroft nearly sneered at the tenaciously muddy lawn. “I don’t know what to do with the place.” He reflected, hints of melancholy and resignation in his voice… that sense of duty he had to keep it.

Trapped there the longest, unable to leave. Something was tethering his brother here. Too many things.

“Sell it.” Q suggested, openly and calmly with a confident tone, shrugging as he opened the door to the car and turned to look back at his brother’s shocked face. “You deserve to be happy Mycroft. The rest of us are.” He said, smiling, and dropped into the car, James followed suit. He could see everything that went unsaid in that sentence whip through Mycroft’s eyes.

“Bring the photo albums with you!” Q called, leaning through the open window as James punched the car into reverse neatly with a grin and raised hand at Mycroft. “John needs to see the evidence of Sherlock’s MC Hammer pants to believe it!”

There was the faintest of incredulous laughing smiles from Mycroft, combined with a grimace at the memory, and the two brothers waved at each other briefly before James swung the car round and the house disappeared.

Q flopped back into his seat with a weighted huff.

“Good fucking riddance to it.” He murmured, and James grinned as he took the omega’s hand and squeezed.

They drove silently for a while, stopped at a service station when Q needed a toilet break and some food. James helped himself to a coffee and they got back on the road.

Some 45 minutes from his old house, Q startled when the most curious rumbling or fluttering motion in his belly made him sit up and gasp.

“James stop!” Clearly panicked by his sudden exclamation James pulled a truly impressive feat of swerve and hand break to bring the car off the road and somehow stop without buffeting his mate too much. Q’s hands pressed to his stomach desperately, but couldn’t feel the only internal movements.

“Oh my god,”

“Q!” James grabbed his shoulders and Q stared at him wide-eyed and nearly struck-dumb.

“I can feel Blasty.” James’ jaw dropped and his hands eagerly pushed Q’s out the way as he leant in close enough that his whole face was pressed against the omega’s stomach. Q’s hands found his alpha’s head and held on, breathing a little hard as his heart thumped.

Beneath his skin, the interspersed rumbling movements carried on, rising and falling and leaving Q breathless.

“Is it too early for you?” Q questioned, and James nodded but stroked Q’s stomach and kissed his skin anyway.

“Hey there pup. Grow good and strong and don’t kick your mother too much.” Q laughed, and put his hands on the sides of his stomach beside James’.

“You do whatever you want… Though do in fact try not to kick me too much. I’ve spent enough time crippled in the toilet.” The moving flutter under his hands had him make some barely restrained squeak and fidget. It was the strangest thing. James looked up at him, chin propped on the omega’s stomach.

“What does it feel like?”

“Particularly violent rumbling.” James wrinkled his nose and Q laughed. “I expect it will get easier to distinguish soon. Hopefully you’ll feel it soon too.”

James rose up and pulled Q into a passionate kiss, the omega almost giggling into it and keeping half his mind on the settling flutters.

Over their drive Blasty moved around for another stretch, and into the evening back at home.

He woke up to one of James’ hands splayed protectively on his belly, and smiled into the pillow, squirming happily along with his pup when he felt the same strange rumbling.

This was the first proof Q had himself that Blasty was alive, present, an actual living being growing inside him. Taking a slightly shaky breath Q curled as close to his stomach as he could, hands and arms coming to cradle the bump as completely as he could.

“Morning, love you.” Q whispered into the room, and felt affection rush through him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes and yay we have movement! x3 (I got excited writing that. I'm officially slightly broody for a fictional child. Oh dear)
> 
> In other news...I've become Mycroftian. For some reason his character and plot line hit surprisingly hard! But I'm probably the most pleased with his 'arc' thus far out of any secondary character. Although Alec has had some moments too, and Villiers...  
> Still, the man needs a mate. Maybe. I can never think of realistic candidates though! Argh *pulls hair out* I know Mystrade is popular, but dearly love Lestrade though I do, I could never compute them together successfully. Hmm...
> 
> Thanks for all the wonderful support in kudos and comment format! <3 if anyone's wondering (I don't know why! To make yourselves feel better about your own life prospects? ;D) I have a position pending for a job....pending on my references... Neeerrrrvousss! Ha, ah well, its at least out of my hands! unless...bribes...  
> Okay I need to cut this off a paragraph ago!
> 
> I was pleased with the Holmes house bit, but was it too much of a shift in style? I hope it was okay anyway, the images were very strong in my mind.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed and thank you for reading! (annnd making it to the end of this note! *hugs ALL*) ;3
> 
> I can't help myself.


	24. H0: Little house on the prairie; H1 Town house in the city

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not too late yay!  
> I got so many wonderfully thoughtful comments last chapter that I may have melted into a puddle for a short amount of time x3 And thank you for all the Mycroft mate suggestions! I'm working on it...slowly! ;D  
> Anyway enjoy!

The thing niggling James’ mind most was that he’d given himself the goal of three weeks to find them a house to live in, and he had failed at that.

Not that it was entirely his fault, but still, he wanted to be settled into a new house long before the baby came, preferably before Q begun finding it difficult to get around. To that end, James had booked an extra day off work for both of them.

His recruits had been processed and were awaiting another round of missions, Q branch was relatively calm, and no one they knew was in any danger –immediate or otherwise… All in all it was a good, calm time to get Q out house hunting.

Last week had been a difficult experience for James. His senses as an agent were always considerable to that of normal people. Being in a house that he knew Q had grown up in, his observational skills had gone haywire… yet, there had been nothing untoward in the house that Mycroft Holmes had so carefully covered up and restored… in fact there was nothing personal at all, not even of the man himself.

It hadn’t been comfortable to be there, especially when Q had broken down in a near panic attack at the flashback of emotions that had cornered him.

He’d been worried enough about his mate that, despite the surprisingly genuine and loving farewell with his brother, when Q had ordered him to stop the car, he had nearly lost himself with panic; convinced that his love was experiencing some sort of stress induced miscarriage or pain…

He’d never been happier to be so wrong. Q seemed to be practically glowing the last few days, constantly ambling around with an all out grin on his face and beaming at anyone for the slightest thing.

Blasty moved randomly and frequently, and Q seemed to take each ‘rumble’ as a dose of endorphins and well-deserved delight and pride. Sometimes almost unable to sit still from a joy so pure James didn’t think he’d ever seen it on his mate’s face.

Well, not true, Q looked at him that way often enough, but this was slightly different. There was something so natural about it.

James himself was effected enough by Q’s immensely happy pheromones even without being just as excited. His hands were on Q whenever the quartermaster was within arm range, slept with one resting on the swell of his partner’s belly throughout the night just in case. And partly just on the off chance that somehow their pup could feel his presence. They were both talking to the growing life increasingly as well. Including him in conversation sometimes.

The alpha’s favourite occupation was to rest his head on Q’s stomach in the evenings and spend time talking to Blasty whilst Q relaxed on the sofa with ice cream and watched the telly.

Q’s hands rarely left his stomach either; it was like a constant anchor. It was endlessly endearing too and encouraged the most primal levels of pride and joy in James himself.

Without Q knowing, he’d also woken a couple of mornings to hear the omega’s new morning ritual.

At some early time Q would wake, long before he normally would, and in a soft tone greet Blasty good morning. It had evolved from a proclamation of love over the weekend to the phrase ‘morning little pup’ or ‘little love’.

James considered these names the stickers, as Q had also used them when they had been exchanging retorts earlier on the way to the house viewings.

“What do you think little love? Think daddy deserves an exploding tie for Christmas or something more his age, carpet slippers perhaps.” James had produced his best mock-offended face.

“You can’t include our pup’s vote without verbal consent!” Q smirked.

“Yes I can, I’m the incubator. Therefore it’s in Blasty’s best interests to side with me. Isn’t that right little pup?” He said the last part to his stomach before turning back to James with a completely deadpan expression. “Blasty says yes.” James cracked into a laugh first, and growled playfully before nipping at Q’s throat, who yelped a little and laughed at the tickling nibbles.

Good mood and pup-parent bonding weren’t the only things that had changed in Q. House hunting had become, rather than a spectator’s sport, an intensive life and death situation that seemed to involve a rather hunter-gatherer mentality…

Q was also absolutely the only one who knew what he was searching for…

If that.

It was their second house of the day; they had two more booked to look at, and more on Saturday. The pair of MI6 agents strolled up along the street of townhouses from the tube station. James would have been happy to drive everywhere, but Q insisted that exercising was important, and it was better to test the distances by foot anyway.

“Number 28?”

“Yup.” Q nodded and looked towards the house critically. The buildings all seemed to be slightly different brick colours in their pairs; the outside of 28 had cream coloured walls and white window surrounds. There was a basement, attic and two floors in between.

“Bay windows, good for light.”

“And sniper rifles.” Q remarked off-handed. James grinned and led the way to the door, rapping sharply.

Whoever had decorated the flat had used an unobtrusive but modern style. They started with the basement, a large open space, wooden flooring and a single half wall separating it about a third in. At the back a huge amount of light poured in from patio doors and some steps led up to a paved area with table and chairs and on to some half maintained greenery hemmed in with a solid looking fence.

“Defendable, room for a hot tub.” James commented under his breath, ignoring the estate agent’s ramblings about large spaces and room to improve the garden. James thought it didn’t look half bad; there was a tree and some almost foreign looking plants that captured his interest, reminding him of Jamaica.

“And the basement is big, convertible.”

“Workout room, and study for you, surveillance centre, or a room for the pup. Not all of it though.” James scoffed at the idea of giving a kid an entire floor, Q just sighed in a slightly overwhelmed rush as he rubbed his stomach and pushed a hand through hair.

“To think Blasty will be big enough.” He mused, and James tugged him close as they were led through the decently big garden.

“The fence along the back wall has a gate to a path that leads to the park…”

“We could code program it, bio scan, easy enough.” Q murmured. James nodded.

“I suggest electrocution.”

“You always suggest electrocution.”

“Because its effective.”

“True. But we have a pup to think about, I’ve heard small fingers burn badly.”

“We wont let Blasty have authorisation to open from the inside at first, only to get back in, just register him as a non-threat user but no access.” Q considered the idea for all of seconds.

“Entirely possible, but we’ll have to give some reward-based freedom.”

“Will we.”

“Yes James, don’t tell me you didn’t grow up scampering around the countryside too.”

“Exactly, that was the countryside. And besides look what we grew into.”

“…Good point. We’ll think about it.” James grinned and squeezed Q a little, fingertips stroking the swell of belly hidden beneath Q’s coat.

They were led up a set of stone stairs to the next floor up. It opened to a utility room off from another open-plan floor featuring a kitchen and lounge, good light, and a bathroom beneath the stairs.

“Mm. Your sofa will fit, there.” James suggested, indicating the space currently occupied by a rather inelegant navy blue couch. Q looked around and nodded appraisingly.

“Room for more shelving, front door has good room for electrical work as well.” Q didn’t sound sold so far, although James quite liked the place, the location was good and the walls were thick, the building safe and in a part of London that MI6 had targeted as extremely low on the threat list.

“Upstairs, shall we?” Their balding and thin-faced tour guide asked, and attempted to put a hand around the air space of Q’s shoulders whilst gesturing onwards, as if to guide him. James lurched forwards with a snarl and sent the other alpha squeaking and hurrying upstairs with a vaguely terrified look, clutching his clipboard tightly. Q raised an eyebrow at James, who shrugged a bit petulantly and directed Q on with a gently coaxing push. The omega grumbled good-naturedly but went with the guidance anyway.

Pregnancy was truly a frightening thing for alphas to experience. Usually James was in perfect control of himself down to the last blink. Q seemed to have stripped the very last of it away now.

It was both freeing and terrifying to be so controlled by hormones. But Q probably wasn’t fairing much better.

He had, after all, gone almost feral when it came to assessing houses. As soon as Q decided it was a no-go, they had to leave. James wouldn’t make Q live in a house he didn’t want to, and had learnt to obey his omega’s snap-decisions to leave rather than facing the wrath of a moody and uninterested Q.

Usually, Q had decided by the time they investigated the master bedroom, so it was with trepidation that James approached it, one step behind his mate with a hand on the small of his back maintaining a light pressure. They were going up stairs, and the alpha had become paranoid.

The short corridor led them into a large cream-carpeted room. There was a cabinet table with a mirror to the left, wardrobes to the right in an area hemmed in by a large en-suite. James would put the bed opposite the door, one side facing the large bay window and the other the bathroom. There was room for chairs, and the bathroom was fitted already with a large bath and separate also large shower, with more windows overlooking the garden.

Q stepped around a short partitioning wall to the left of the cabinet in the bedroom and gasped.

“James!” Q ushered him, coming back to grab the agent’s arm and pull him into what appeared to be an empty walk-in wardrobe. It was divided from the main bedroom by two wooden concertina walls that could be fully closed or pushed all the way back to leave the space open. A series of shelves marked the wall nearest the door and there was a window opposite, giving the area decent light.

“Its perfect.” James was a bit bemused by Q’s love of the wardrobe.

“You want to be able to see all the clashing shades of your cardigans at once?” He asked, teasingly. Q shot James a look and shook his head with a laugh before stepping further into the area, one hand mapping out a shape at chest height and the other on his belly.

“No, we can use it as an anteroom, for when we have the baby.” James felt his face slacken a bit, he hadn’t even thought of where they’d put the baby when it was still, well, a baby. “There’s room for a crib, see? And not far to walk in the middle of the night or if I’m tired, otherwise one of us would have to trek up or downstairs…and one of us can sleep downstairs or upstairs if we need a break, we can keep all the clothes and toys nearby… And when feeding and sleeping is for longer stretches we can swap to wherever the bedroom will be. What do you think?” James turned to Q and opened his mouth.

“Fantastic planning!” The estate agent butted into the conversation enthusiastically. “You can really see the poten-“ James shut the sliding wall sharply in his face and turned back to Q, smiling a little with pride.

“I think you’ve thought of everything.” Q’s eyes flickered between his, ducking his head a little as if to make stronger eye contact.

“But what do you think.” James smiled and kissed him.

“I’m glad that you thought of all this, because I hadn’t, and I don’t want you sleeping in a different room to me or having to navigate stairs multiple times a night when you’ve just given birth… the book says that movement wont be your strong suit for a while as it is.” Q grimaced a bit in thanks for the reminder, and James kissed at the corner of his mouth, and then temple.

“So, is this the one?”

“…Yes.” Q admitted cautiously, looking at James as if to ascertain if they were in agreement over that. The agent just beamed.

“Upstairs?”

“Upstairs.” Q agreed, and they opened the walls to the hassled face of their balding estate agent.

The attic contained another, much smaller, bathroom, and was divided into two rooms and a storage closet.

“Spare bedroom for Alec?” James teased, and Q chuckled. That alone sold the house for James. He turned to their rather sullen-faced tag along, grinning broadly.

“We’ll take it.”

The man’s expression mutated to delight in less than two seconds.

 

-00Q00-

 

Q was still giddy over the purchase of their new house when James drove them out for a celebratory dinner at an outstanding restaurant with a month-long waiting list. Of course, James Bond could get them a table in seconds.

The deal with their house was settled in one go thanks to being to high in MI6, although the paper work, security checks and instalments would take some time to finalise before the quartermaster and 007 were allowed to move in anywhere. It would take three weeks before the house would be ready, four by the time all their belongings were moved over and settled.

It was a shame to wait so long, given that he would be about 23-24 weeks pregnant by that stage and less able to move furniture. But Q couldn’t let it bother him tonight.

They had a house, a place to put both baby and child when necessary, and it was a huge weight off both their shoulders. James happily fed Q his starter and they both gained far too much enjoyment from the sickened or jealous looks of the other customers.

No one disturbed them, except to bring them food and drinks. No one attempted to touch Q’s stomach or flirt with James, even though the man looked almost blindingly like an Adonis, and their deserts were supplied ‘on the house’ thanks to the alpha’s connections. 

It was a dinner just for the two of them, and it was perfect.

When they got back to their flat James swayed them through the rooms with Q laughing and attempting to twirl the agent until they reached the kitchen table and Blasty’s growth chart.

James filled in the 19.6 cm mark with a flourish and attached a line underneath in his leaning scratch handwriting saying ‘house brought.’ Q smiled and traced over the line and words, the note would join the myriad of other jotted memoires and milestones marked on the chart. It was hard to believe that the 19-odd centimetres baby curled in his belly was truly that big. But even as he thought it a rumbling movement bubbled around inside him and Q hard to squirm back into James’ neck with a grin plastered onto his face.

James placed his hands over Q’s belly and squeezed him close gently, humming in satisfaction.

“Blasty woken up?” The alpha queried. Q nodded and laughed a little giddily into his mate’s neck until James slipped around to the front of Q and bent down, kissing the omega’s stomach under the just-fitting bespoke suit that had been encouraged onto him.

“Be good and sleep whilst I entertain your mother.” James muttered in a truly filthy voice whilst looking directly at Q.

Q burst out snorting, laughing to the extent where he nearly toppled over James’ head, the man grinning as if he’d just won the damn lottery.

“Attractive.” He complimented teasingly. Q snorted and grabbed James by the shirt.

“Get up here you bastard.” The omega growled playfully and tugged at James’ shirt collar until they met for a kiss.

 

-00Q00-

 

Q was having an achy day. Sometimes they just seemed to happen, for no rhyme or reason. It was annoying… well, aggravating as hell, but unfortunately unavoidable.

James, being the perfect example of a human being that he was, gave Q a thoroughly good massage on Thursday evening that helped with the leg cramps, aching back and by association throbbing head. Apparently the agent had been picking up tips from the pregnancy book of horrors and seemed keen to help. Q wasn’t about to argue, and swore he’d reciprocate when possible…he’d fallen asleep at the time.

The 00 recruits were heading out on their deciding missions next week; they’d either be stepped up to their double kill missions and certified, or they’d be continued as high standard agents outside the program. Q had read the reports of their missions and had a couple that he thought showed promise, but he had no idea which ones would make the cut. James was slightly more relaxed about this next set of missions, although the omega didn’t imagine that would last. But at least Alec was due to be back from a long stringed mission that spanned most of Russia on Monday. He’d completed the objective yesterday, but wanted some time to ‘see the homeland’.

“He’s buying vodka and screwing the ice-blondes.” James translated after the message came through to Q’s computer to please delay the ticket for a first-class return.

“Ah.” Q said, and approved the delay anyway, hardly surprised by 006’s antics. The man deserved a break after all the complications that had left him out there for the last few weeks.

They were both busy at work regardless, and on Friday Q had no fewer than three mission crises to run. Usually agents in the field could function entirely on their own, and had to, but sometimes, as with the Silva incident, they needed extra intelligence or tracking, or guidance when it came to tech.

For one extremely high-stakes mission regarding 001 M even sat in with Q in order to run it together. Things were always so delicate with the matters that had made world news, like the Egypt situation.

They were late home on Friday therefore. James had stayed, doing god knows what in his office for however many hours, and they tramped back into their flat together.

“Bed.” Q announced, arms reaching up as if he could magic the surface closer, but had to stagger on regardless. James’ hands closed on his shoulders and gently steered him around towards the kitchen.

“Food. Then bed.” Q grunted in acquiescence and begun automatically pulling foods and pans out. James watched him fondly, and laughed when he was batted away from helping. Before long Q had two ham and cheese omelettes made and garnished with ketchup.

“…Thank you.” James said with gracious surprise, and begun eating happily. Q finished his dinner and proceeded to eat an apple and then a banana before he felt satisfied. James chortled and cleared the plates.

“Eating for two now?”

“Less mocking Double oh Seven, more sleeping.” Q demanded, and pushed back from the table, he was caught by a bit of dizziness though and instantly felt James’ arms around him.

“No more late nights at the office.” The man grumbled, but with that hint of concern in his voice that refused to back down.

“I’m fine.” Q assured, and straightened without a problem. “You shouldn’t worry so much.”

“Same goes for you.”

“Exactly, only one of us can be the worrier.” James huffed and buried his face into Q’s neck, biting possessively, one hand coming to curve around Q’s belly in the same fashion.

“I have a right to worry…and too many damn hormones to stop.” James admitted. Q sighed, but smiled.

“Well can you exercise your right whilst I’m horizontal? My back is killing me.”

“With pleasure, love.”

 

-00Q00-

 

James’ habit had become to sleep with a hand resting on Q’s belly like an anchor, sometimes stroking and sometimes just cradling protectively, but always maintaining the point of contact. The effect was intensely calming, and made it easy to murmur to the swelling growth if he woke during the night. His entire body seemed to relax with the satisfaction of the touch; the combined scent of Q and knowledge of both his mate and baby’s health was unbelievably soothing.

He was content with the arrangements, when something made him stir out of the pleasant dose, nose in Q’s hair, and wake into alertness; the tiniest of flutterings beneath the edge of his left thumb. Propping himself up on an elbow and leaning closer with a swift, deft movement, James chased the almost-shuddering back a bit. At first in concern for Q, but as his palm slid over the area the man’s breath was stolen.

Beneath his rough-skinned palm James could feel –faint but present- a rumbling sort of roll, like having his hand over some cased bit of machinery on a slow cycle.

“Oh my god.” James whispered, and bent his head closer, pressing his face against Q’s belly till he could feel the faint reverberations on his cheek. “Oh my god.” He froze for a moment in disbelief, just absorbing the sensation and chasing the rumbles through Q’s stomach.

This was his baby. This was their baby. One lively pup growing indisputably in his mate’s womb, stretching muscles and wiggling of its own volition…

“Good god you’re real.” James hushed against Q’s stomach, mouthing and kissing the flesh there as if the growing babe might be able to feel him. Laughter caught at his throat, quiet at first, and then growing, shaking his body as he tried to keep it in, feeling the flutter against his palm.

“Hello there little one,” was it his imagination or did the rumbling shift? “The name’s Bond, Ja-“ shaking his head at himself, James started again.

“I’m your Father.” The rumbles continued shifting. “Lively little thing aren’t you Rumbles.” The name slipped out before James could help it, and he chuckled again. “You know, your mother calls you Blasty. Which is good if you’re a boy but otherwise it’s not very unisex.”

The silly thread of conversation paused as James closed his eyes to marvel at the feeling once more, kiss Q’s belly once more.

“We both love you very much.” He assured, fairly certain that ‘love’ was the emotion bubbling in his chest, and laughed again, feeling elation begin to grab him at the flutters his hand was chasing around.

“Lets wake your mother up shall we?”

 

-00Q00-

 

“Q, Q!” Q wasn’t sure if it was the voice or the jostling that woke him, but blearily he raised hands and smacked himself in the face trying to rub his eyes.

“Whas goin on?” He managed in a slurred whisper, voice gritty with sleep. He coughed to clear his throat. “James?”

“Come on, wake up Q,” He blinked and flailed hands onto James’ shoulders when strong arms hoisted him up the mattress to sit against the headboard. Q was buffeted gently by incessant kisses to his neck and face before the weight of James’ head dropped back to rest on his stomach where the man’s warm hands were.

“Darling what’s-“

“I can feel, Q, Blasty!” The words took a moment to clock through his not-awake brain before he gasped and opened his eyes, hands finding James’ head and neck, stroking down to his shoulders as their eyes met. His mate had the most wonderful smile on his face.

“I can really feel it,” His hands cradled around Q’s belly like it was the most precious thing in the world and he bent to press a slow, gently kiss there. Q felt the rumbling movements himself and stroked James’ neck, feeling curiously bubble-chested and tight-throated.

“What does it feel like for you?” The alpha pondered for a moment, hands chasing over the area of mirrored rumbling inside Q. It was a giddy feeling.

“Not very noticeable, sort of like a washing machine.” Q burst out laughing, tears in his eyes, and he bent over to kiss the short blonde hair.

“I’m glad you can feel it.” He managed, voice soft and a bit thick with emotion.

“You realise I’m not letting you go now.” James stated as he nuzzled into Q’s belly, still stroking almost reverently. Q tentatively reached down and put his hands over where he felt the most rumbling inside; the small reverberations felt from both in and out took his breath away sharply. The omega couldn’t manage words after that, and instead drank in the image of James’ joy-struck face and whisper-quiet cooing words.

“Its amazing.” James hushed out after long minutes, and Q just smiled, curled around James closer. “Hope you plan to keep this up, pup, nice and strong.”

Q yawned through a smile and settled in more comfortably, James kept up his one-sided conversation about all things and the quartermaster gradually dropped off to sleep to the sound and his mate’s arms around him.

 

-00Q00-

True to his word, James barely let go of Q once on Saturday, instead making a menace of himself by nearly tripping them both over as he walked around grinning with his hands clamped around Q.

Sometimes the faint shudders were in too deep of a position for him to feel, even when he’d rush hands over Q whenever the man announced another movement.

James was drunk on it, and couldn’t get enough of the evidence of their pup alive and moving.

“He fidgets like you.”

“And he works out like you.” Q teased back. “God I hope he doesn’t get your kick.” James nuzzled Q firmly, chuckling, and kissed him all over his face. The omega laughed and batted him off gently for a while, before surrendering to the onslaught. The alpha’s chest was soaring with pride and joy and he was hard pressed to give Q a minute to himself all morning. Even when Blasty wasn’t moving for either of them, he wanted nothing more than to be close, right on top of Q if he could help it.

James could admit to himself that he was being overprotective and possessive about the whole thing, but Q let him carry on good naturedly, only pushing the agent away and holding ground pointedly when he wanted to use the bathroom.

No amount of petulant behaviour would dissuade Q, so James waited to pounce on him the instant the door opened. Luckily, Q seemed to have a saint-like understanding that this was just one of James’ needs, and kept relaxed and entertained by it.

Their pleasantly slovenly day was interrupted at precisely half past three by a burst of tune from Q’s phone.

“Is that… ‘Dude Looks Like a Lady?’” James questioned as Q hunted for his phone among the folds of the bed where they’d been lounging. It was confirmed moments later with the lyrics.

“I try to find a different mildly offensive ring tone for Sherlock every few months.” James grinned as Q located the phone and answered it.

“Hello?”

_“Let us in, or better yet get dressed and come out, I need to borrow you, and your muscle bound alpha.”_ Q glanced over, though James had heard perfectly well.

“Come up, but I make no promises.” Q responded, correctly interpreting James’ expression as ‘wary’. The omega rang off and disengaged the locks for Sherlock, looking back at James.

“Alright?” James slid a hand over Q’s stomach where Blasty had been silent for the past half hour.

“Are you going to tell him about this?” James tried to sound casual about it, but Q raised an eyebrow nonetheless.

“I think we can keep it to ourselves a bit longer.” James grinned. “Although, I should warn you, he’ll probably already know, and I can’t lie to him.” Noting the use of ‘can’t’ rather than ‘wont’ in that sentence, James nodded.

“Will you try to shoot him if he touches me?” Q countered, not really joking.

“I don’t want to…” James replied, not really giving a distinct answer.

“He might not even want to touch… but if he does, can you try not to?” James sifted and attempted not to grumble for a moment.

“When Alec comes back can he touch you?” Q looked surprised and reflective.

“Of course… I suppose he hasn’t really yet, he’s always avoided my stomach.” Looking back at James from the ceiling Q ducked his head a little in seriousness, meeting the alpha’s eyes. “You might want to tell him he’s allowed to.” Satisfied, James grinned, and pulled Q into a quick kiss and belly rub before they both scooted off the bed.

The door opened not moments later and Sherlock Holmes stepped into the room with a great sniff and wide eyes.

“You brought a house!” He announced, and Q rolled his eyes. John Watson doing the same behind Sherlock, though the man had the decency to raise a hand in greeting to James at least. The detective’s eyes swung sharply to Q.

“Asty… you’re huge.” Q raised an eyebrow in a distinctly unimpressed fashion as John elbowed Sherlock and James wrapped an arm around Q, glowering.

“Ow! What?” Sherlock complained.

“Remember what I said? ‘Nice and flattering, remember the hormones!” John spoke the last part in a violently hushed whisper. And Sherlock rolled his eyes.

“He’s not going to go demented on me I would smell it… And besides he is huge.” The last bit was added matter of factly and the beta looked to Q as if for back up on his statement. Q just sighed.

“Yes yes, I’m practically a beluga. Did you have a particular reason for stopping by or will you leave soon?”

“I’m sorry, we’re sorry, you look amazing, actually.” John inputted, elbowing Sherlock again, who omitted another ‘ooow!’ of whiny complaint. “Isn’t that right Sherlock?”

“Such compliments are for the weak of mind-“

“Sherlock-“

“Of which my brother certainly isn’t…” Cool and calculating blue-grey eyes turned to Q. “Unless the pregnancy has addled your brain.” The look on Q’s face could have curdled milk and even managed to stop Sherlock, John taking a step back worriedly.

“What do you want?” Q asked in clipped words, voice the most professional levels of quartermaster.

“Fine, sorry.” Sherlock grumbled, and moved forwards with his arms out to give Q the generic hug that James had come to recognise as something both older Holmes brothers did as a way to open up interacting with their sibling. It was like some kind of requirement that had to be fulfilled for Q to be anything other than civil to them. “You’re entirely too much like Mummy.”

“I learned from the best.” Q replied stiffly, but thawed a bit when hugged in that possessive manner Sherlock had. There was a moment of silence before Sherlock pulled back with a sharp breath and held Q by the waist, staring at his stomach.

“You’ve both felt it move haven’t you?” Q shot James a ‘told you so’ look of apologetic exasperation, and the agent fought the itch to pull Sherlock off when John started forwards with an amazed expression.

“Really? That’s incredible, how long? May I?” Q looked around at James helplessly, who just shrugged in resignation, sharp eyes not leaving Sherlock’s hands as the beta tiptoed long fingers up his mate’s sides as if sensing for bombs.

“About a week. There’s not really anything going on right now.” Q tried, sounding equally resigned, but gestured an okay to John anyway. James felt his back bristling a bit at the sight of both men with hands on Q’s stomach, but contained himself.

“You should have let me measure you before, the growth in just a few weeks is phenomenal.” Sherlock muttered, hands roaming all over Q’s bared belly with quiet focus. “Quite fascinating, in an entirely mundane way of course.” The beta looked up sharply. “Are you eating enough? How are you sleeping? You’re terrible at remembering those sort of things.”

“Say’s the pot.” Q muttered, and then squirmed out of all the hands on him. “Alright, you’ve had a feel, that’s enough.” Sherlock growled and pounced back on Q, herding him to sit on the couch and nearly blanketing this younger man. The omega waved off James’ twitch for his gun and the alpha settled with entirely fake calm on an armchair. John apologetically took the other corner of the sofa and kept a respectful distance from James’ mate.

“I will feel it. Already at this age the foetus can detect sound, it should know its uncle Sherlock, that way I can fast begin the conditioning experiments-“

Nearly faster than his trained eye could see Sherlock’s head was whip-cracked to the side with a ringing smack and kicked so hard in the stomach with two feet that he smashed to his back on the padded sofa and lay winded. John swore and lurched to Sherlock’s aid as Q knelt over the fallen beta and snarled like a feral thing.

“Don’t you _fucking dare_ treat my baby like that!” James was well on his feet and beside Q at this point, with a good enough vantage point to see Sherlock’s expression. Rather than angry, the detective appeared a mix of impressed and amused by his younger brother.

“Very good Asty. So, shall we get down to business then?” Q seemed less than impressed, James too for that matter, and stepped forwards in front of his mate pointedly.

“If this ‘business’ of yours is to take place within the two-meter radius of my mate’s body, you can fuck off.” James advised pleasantly with an edge of venom. Sherlock rolled his eyes with exaggerated exasperation.

“I needed to test if you still had your wits about you. I’m pleased to say they may even be sharper than ever. Pregnancy suits you, Aster dear.” Q didn’t drop his stance at the first hint of retreat from his brother.

“And if I hadn’t passed your _test_?” He asked, reining in his contempt for Sherlock’s barely passable compliment with difficulty.

“Then I would have had another experiment to run in five month’s time- don’t!” Sherlock held up his hands and John’s tensed their hold on the other beta’s as if to pull him back as Q snapped at the air in warning and James’s muscles sprung into predatory alertness, face closing into a mask as his eyes sought weaknesses faster than a lightning bolt. _Legs within reach thin enough to snap, old war wound on shoulder-_

“Don’t get excited.” Sherlock demanded, as Watson added ‘let’s all calm down gents’ behind him.

“Don’t test my mate.” James and Q’s eyes met after they spoke the words in unison, and the agent offered a smirk that seemed to relax them both somewhat. Q sat back on his haunches at least and James eased down to sit on the sofa as well, though he pointedly perched between his quartermaster and the man’s brother, giving Q his back.

Sherlock sat up as well with John’s help.

“That was uncalled for-“

“No you really did ask for it.” John interrupted the other beta even as he brushed Sherlock’s shoulders off. The detective huffed, ruffled, and looked back at Q.

“I meant it, you know. You’re putting on confidence with each pound of fat your pup does.” Q raised an eyebrow as he relaxed a bit more, James following suit almost instinctually, but remaining aware of the two betas.

“Your delivery lacks timing. I could probably write a program for that.” John snorted at the idea of Sherlock having a program on his phone to instruct him when to speak or not, the taller beta just glowered.

“You know my methods brother, now come on! The game is afoot!” James stared a bit and Q sighed in disbelief as he frowned at his brother.

“Do you just throw these things together in the hope that you’ll sound cool?” He criticised, Sherlock puffed up in affront.

“No.”

“Yes, he does. All the time.” John counter-informed, and James couldn’t help but crack a grin. With the tension sufficiently removed, the betas could begin to explain their visit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So a couple of things got sorted in this kinda-cute chapter, such as their house (woo!), and Bond's ability to intermittently feel Blasty, and just at the end here we've gotten into the next planed-section of the story!  
> These last six or so chapters have been fun, but I'll be glad for a bit more structure and less niggly things to worry about, such as the house.
> 
> Sherlock and John happen to be far too much fun to write bickering x3 they take over! Hope everyone enjoyed James' many moments of overprotection and Q's brief BAMF attack xD  
> To those of you (us) missing the Q general suffering/torment/uncomfortability...well, ahem ...that's probably a spoiler, but hey! We've been in mundane city long enough xD...I'm terrible.
> 
> Good news is: I'm in Scotland for a week from friday woo! So hopefully plenty of writing time! I'm aiming to give you guys a chapter sooner, hopefully 2 this week if I can. We shall see! I set these goals and then... but I'm determined! Y'all deserve it x3
> 
> Thank you for reading and commenting and kudosing, and I hope you enjoyed! :D


	25. H0: Into the fire; H1: Into the furnace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took a bit to get right, and a few re-writes of the beginning. Given that the contents of this chapter were the whole reason I imagined Sherlock and John in this story I wanted to do it justice.
> 
>  **WARNING:** Severe violence and mild torture in this chapter, including towards a pregnant character. Spoilers maybe but seriously, be careful reading this if that will affect you.

Sherlock’s ‘afoot game’ had them all sitting in a small and low-key bar with music and dancing.

“So we’re the ‘dilution factor’, is that what you’re saying?” James commented. The pair of them had just been subjected to a long and speedily worded explanation of why the four of them were sitting at a table and pretending to eat, drink and be merry. Well, no drinking for Q.

“Exactly.” Sherlock breathed, thankful of their apparently swift uptake. “This is a couples bar, me and John would hardly have mingled in were we alone together.” John sighed, but nodded in acquiescence.

“He’s right, we skirted around here the other night, but we stood out like a sore thumb.” The doctor informed with a dry voice. “Not that that was too surprising.”

“I was surprised.” Sherlock said sharply, turning to him.

“Well, I wasn’t.”

“I don’t see how we got spotted.”

“Maybe running around claiming loudly that we were heavily in love wasn’t actually that convincing.”

“I’m always convincing.”

“Not when you don’t follow through.”

“Well I-“

“Please.” Q finally interrupted, bringing up his hands to halt the conversation, a nacho dangling from one of them. “The less I know about your depraved lack of a sex life the better.” Sherlock glowered.

“I have a sex life-“

“I don’t want to know!” Q trilled loudly turning away to watch the dancers and drinking a long gulp of his virgin cocktail. The detective shifted as if on the edge of grumbling.

“What are we looking out for?” James asked instead, huffing slightly and leaning back in his booth seat, foot absent-mindedly catching Q’s ankle and tapping along to the beat of the rhythmic music. He read Q’s smile in his shoulders.

Sherlock took a stiff drink of his coffee, so John sighed and leaned forward to divulge the information.

“Rumour has it that this place is a favourite of some people smuggling contraband, only recently they’ve moved on from small-time black market deals and drugs to dog fights and big-time gamblers and dealers. Lestrade isn’t sure though, so he wanted us to see if we could pick up any gossip. They don’t conduct business here, the manager’s clean. He’s the informant.”

“Should be your first suspect then.” James suggested darkly.

“He was.” Sherlock inputted. “He’s been thoroughly investigated. Didn’t want his bar implicated as the wrong sort of place if anyone was dragged in, decided to report what he’d seen instead.”

“So we’re providing cover whilst you two keep a look out.” Q confirmed, not taking his eyes off the dance floor. Sherlock’s eyes didn’t leave his brother, though Q hadn’t turned to look at him.

“Yes. You’re perfectly safe, they can’t risk an open confrontation and their game depends on secrecy.” James tapped the table briefly in consideration, appreciating the assurance, but also knowing nothing was ever really that simple.

Still, places like these attracted just as much of the right sort as they did the wrong, as long as the two betas were discreet, there shouldn’t be any problems.

“You two just need to dance and show off that you’re in love and out for a night that you dragged us both on, and no one will think twice. Pregnancy deceives all manner of idiots.” Q huffed a bit, shaking his head.

“Only if you two actually look like you’re happy too, otherwise you’ll stick out like sore thumbs.” James sat a bit straighter, impressed at Q for being so on the ball with undercover personalities. It shouldn’t have surprised him, really, but Q had only ever gone into the field a handful of times and even then never taking an active part, instead allocated in heavily secured buildings nearby, or just handing out equipment.

“I can pretend to be happy.” Sherlock glowered. Q chuckled lightly and turned back to the table.

“Any more drinks? My round.” John instantly protested.

“No, no you shouldn’t pay! If this is some kind of new-age shower for you then we should be the ones spending.” The beta got up and grabbed his wallet, heading to the bar with a grin. James motioned to get past Q with an announcement of ‘I’ll help carry’.

Glancing back from the bar James saw Q and Sherlock had sidled closer together and were chatting apparently amicably whilst getting stuck into the sombrero of dips and nibbles.

Perfectly inconspicuous.

 _Not bad_. He couldn’t help but think of the two beta’s plan to get them involved.

 

-00Q00-

 

The evening carried out in an entirely innocent way, John eventually becoming tipsy as James relaxed with the warmth of alcohol. Q seemed to relax vicariously through the pleasant atmosphere and the liveliness of Blasty. Sherlock became quite witty and was using grand gestures to tell stories of when he’d first been starting out his detective business.

“The carp was _huge_! How could I have known it was a vegetarian and would never have eaten the ham sandwiches? It could have swallowed their whole child!” Q was struggling to breathe through laughter as John cracked up and over his glass, James chortling incredulously.

“But come on, that’s noting, you must have some stories.” Sherlock accused James of, who thought for a moment.

“Do you ever use puns? Like in cop films?” John inquired, hopefully.

“John is far too fond of films incorporating excessive violence and come-backs.”

“I am not!” John defended himself, but the laughter somewhat spoiled the effect. James considered for a moment, looked at Q’s curious grin and smiled.

“Well, alright then. So, poker game, high stakes. The natives were getting rather tetchy because luck was swinging my way-“ In just a few sentences, James realised he had the lot of them watching him with rapt attention as he leaned back casually and spun the tail, omitting anything particularly gruesome or sensitive.

“-Of course, just my luck, get to the car kitted out with all the fancies, unknown poison running through my system and the damn defibrillator doesn’t bloody work! Faulty plugging, my connections weren’t any help, they weren’t up to your standards back then.” James added, turning to shoot Q his most charming smile, the omega just grinned and swatted at him.

“Then what happened?” Sherlock butted in, leaning halfway over the table, John was wide-eyed and wide-mouthed and stunned. James was very glad he’d told the story to Q before so that the man wouldn’t worry unduly. Really, the whole thing had been quite entertaining… after the fact.

“My number two happened along just when I thought it was over, one hit and I was good as new, got up and put my shirt back on-“

“You went back _in_!?” John exclaimed, incredulous. James grinned and sipped his drink.

“Of course, I had a game to finish.” The alpha remarked lightly with a smile, causing John to laugh disbelievingly and Sherlock to tap his hand on the table rapidly, demanding more.

“And? What happened?” He demanded. James took another sip.

“Change of shirt, went back to the table, my opposite looking at me like he’d eaten a lemon whole. My American friend had just lost a hand, and my opponent looked set to win. So I sat down and said ‘sorry, that last hand nearly killed me.’”

Laughter broke forth loudly from John, who reached over to clap him on the arm, Q shaking with mirth beside James in near-silent laughter and Sherlock chuckling almost identically and bright eyed.

His heart lifted to hear the sound around him. Out in the background the song changed to an old classic and Q raised his hands as if in success.

“Good stories, good music, goodnight!” He crowed happily, possibly experiencing a large dose of happy endorphins if James’ nose was to be trusted. With a grin the alpha stood and swept past Q to offer his hand.

“May I have this dance?” He cracked with a grin as John nearly hit the table with a laughing groan.

“God that was terrible!” the doctor complained in hilarity. Q just grinned up at him and took his hand only to pull him into a searing kiss.

“Works for me.” He muttered against James’ lips, breath warm and eyes glinting with cheeky mirth. Beaming the agent swept an arm around him and they both pushed through to the dance floor, throwing quick waves behind them at the two betas.

Q danced divinely when you got him in the right mood. His hips could sway with some of the best dancers James had seen, and once he lost his reservations there was a snappish fluidity that the alpha worked to his best intentions. James was no slacker himself, no matter what Alec would say. But just because the man could kazatsky on command didn’t mean he knew a damn thing about seductive dancing.

The pair of them whirled around the floor, hardly the best dancers, but far too caught up in themselves to care much about that. Slow songs turned to fast and back again, and the tow of them were laughing softly and swaying on the spot in a circle. They were close enough to the table for James to hear Sherlock muttering ‘sickening isn’t it’ to John. But the bite in his voice sounded forced, and John was watching them occasionally with a warm expression, and Q was pressed against him happy and healthy, and their lively pup was rumbling away.

James had to say, he was pretty content.

 

-00Q00-

 

Q hadn’t had such a light-hearted evening in a while. It was dark by the time they left the bar, the surveillance mission having turned out completely useless, but spirits were high regardless.

John could apparently cut a few not-too-shabby shapes on the dance floor, and the three of them had even shared a short lively dance with even Sherlock joining in at the end. It was honest to say Q hadn’t danced with his brother since that one week of truly disastrous ballroom lessons they’d both been forced into when Q was six and Sherlock thirteen. They’d both gotten better. Even if their joint style came out rather dated, it had made their respective partners laugh, which Q thought might have been his brother’s motivation in a nut shell, given the way his eyes lit up whenever John doubled over in stitches.

All things considered, he maybe should have thought that it was too good to be true.

Q was fiddling with the collar of his coat outside, standing next to Sherlock, who was gazing out at the street and looking more relaxed than he’d seemed in years. John, the powerful influence that he apparently was, and James were gathering their own coats.

It was cool, but not freezing, only a faint mist of rain that was more refreshing than anything, when a cracking bang nearly jolted Q out of his skin as both he and Sherlock automatically ducked for cover behind the bins out in front of the restaurant.

Gun.

There were a few screams and people swearing from inside as adrenaline ratcheted through Q. He thought he heard James curse before more shots rang out and Sherlock was nearly on top of him and pushing him forwards towards more cover, back towards the door and James.

Q reached for the handle when he heard the air zip and scrambled back into his brother to heave them both out the way as angles ran through his head and bullets rained down on the door.

“Q! Q respond!” James was shouting through the door.

“Get Six!” Q bellowed back as the two brothers both flinched back behind the dustbins.

“It’s a damn sniper!” Sherlock hissed, John was shouting for him too. And Q was nearly spinning on adrenaline and panic.

“They must be up on that roof opposite, two o’clock.” Q managed, voice remaining mostly level.

“Get down!” Sherlock called and pulled Q back to the floor as bullets came from a new, lower angle. The dustbins wouldn’t hold. A car came tearing from down the street as shots rained from above. Q swore and made a rapid count calculation and judgement, lurching and dragging Sherlock along with him across to the better cover of the alley and down a small side path just as the clip ran out for the bullets causing a lull.

It lasted just long enough, once more hammering on the walls around them, thankfully out of reach as their backs slammed into brick. Q was shaking and grabbed for his phone but Sherlock clawed onto his wrist and dragged him onwards into a sprint.

“Come on! Whilst we have the advantage!”

“No-James-“

“He’s no use to us if he can’t get out of the bloody building!” Sherlock shouted, not letting go as he begun a punishing pace. To Q’s horror there was the sound of a bike engine revving behind him. “I know who this is, Sebastian Moran! He’s been after me since the death of his master Moriarty, I thought I’d dealt with him in Bangladesh.”

Q panted and dialled rapidly for James one-handed, having little choice but to keep up to save his skin as his brother wheeled them around corners and through alleys and eventually up a fire-escape ladder.

_“Q!”_

“Sniper, plus ground cover in pursuit, likely ex military given the skill-“ Q gasped as Sherlock dragged him into a duck behind some chimneys when gun fire rat-tatted up from below, followed by an engine to chase them round.

“-Heading towards the Thames. James-“ Q cut his near-plea off as Sherlock tugged his hand violently, the man looking over to the outside corridor of the next flat and then back at him impatiently. Q felt his heart stop and dug in his heels as fear clouded him, James’ voice keeping up a stream of advice and encouraging commentary in his ear, sounding desperately like he was trying to keep Q calm. Too late.

“Aster!” Sherlock shouted at him, and Q snapped out of the trance of fear the sight of the jump caused. “Come on! _Move_!” The bellow got him taking a step forwards and that was all Sherlock needed to forcibly pull him forwards too fast.

Q had to trust his body and brother’s judgement and push into a jump or face sure death. There was a moment of pure horror-mixed exhilaration and weightless disbelief as concrete rushed up to meet them.

With a small shout of terror Q’s feet hit solid ground and would have buckled out from under him if not for Sherlock doggedly dragging him up and on.

For Q it swiftly became a blur of blind panic and force of will, each leap surely the one that would be his last and with the constant threat of the bike, now devoid of bullets, circling beneath them.

His heart was pounding around his throat and ears, body aching and Q eventually had to collapse to his knees to save Sherlock dragging him on over the edge of a fire-escape to street level, the bike hampered by traffic and streets behind.

“I _can’t_!” He panted, shaking, becoming fuzzy headed and feeling almost sick with terror and exhaustion. His body felt heavy and the extra weight of his stomach and the pup in his belly were uncomfortable and forcing him to have to stop running even as his mind spun with panic at what the strain was doing to him. “The baby, I, I can’t keep up, s’too much, feels like I’ll die!” The words were a struggle between wheezed breaths. Sherlock growled and turned to him.

“If you stop here then they will find you and kill you after they make you watch your baby die, now _come on_!”

The truth in the words was like a punch to the gut, and Q forced himself up, over the railing after Sherlock, his brother helping him down and gripping him tight as they ran on.

Q felt like he was falling down a dark tunnel, his phone cracked in his hands and breath loud in his ears as his wavering legs followed Sherlock, both brothers running down the street.

 

-00Q00-

 

“Dammit!” James nearly threw his phone away as Q’s voice cut out with thuds and running steps. He knew Q’s position now, new to a horrible situation he would be focused only on forwards, on saving himself and probably following the directions of Sherlock, who was nearest.

There would be no getting through to him in that state of mind. Q wasn’t programmed to receive second-hand orders in these blinkering situations; he was programmed to give them. If James was there…but he wasn’t. At least Sherlock was keeping them moving.

The sniper had moved on from outside but he and John had already left the building, contacting MI6 and the police respectively.

Of course there was uproar.

That wasn’t helping Q.

“If it’s Moran, he’ll be after Sherlock, but he wont leave loose ends.” John informed at they ran in the direction of the Thames. Too bloody slow! The alpha growled, decided John was dead weight and thrust a spare gun at him from an ankle-holster, leaving only the shoulder one occupied.

“Moran will make a move, cover the street-“

“Like hell!” John said, keeping pace as James sprinted for a row of the only available vehicle in-sight.

Infuriatingly the Barclays sponsored Boris bikes were well locked. Bond shot the locks off and commandeered the freed bicycle. John was cursing ‘bloody hell’ behind him and was halfway through shoving a pound into the slot as James tore away as fast as his muscles could take him.

“Bloody _bicycles_!” The agent cursed as he swerved around a car and headed in the most direct route towards Q possible, at least he was more manoeuvrable than a motorbike.

“Come on you bitch.” He cursed absently and checked his phone one-handed as his jacket was whipped open by the wind. Q had more trackers on him than an average agent. His phone, glasses, sub-dermal, deep tissue… R was relaying the connections through to Bond’s phone and the rest of MI6 were shutting down the traffic and getting surveillance cover. Bike-deployed agents would also be on-route to Q’s location as it flashed through on James’ phone.

Q was close, nearing Tower Bridge, then on it. John was being left behind as James powered through the pain in his thighs to get to his mate.

 

-00Q00-

 

The bridge was being shut down but the bike was gaining on them. Q could barely breathe as they weaved through honking traffic and the bike revved behind them. Sherlock got them over the barriers and onto Tower Bridge proper, dragging Q along in a mad dash as the bike roared over the haphazard restrictions and blasted through the lowering barricade. Q’s breath left him in a dizzy swoop as he turned enough to see the man wielding his gun as a club and bearing down on them.

“Take a breath!” Sherlock shouted, and Q was swung round and felt his stomach drop as his brother dived sideways and grabbed his arm tightly.

Q’s hip bashed into the barrier but it wasn’t enough to stop the fall and nor were his flailing limbs as Sherlock’s weight dragged him down through the gravity of air.

There was a terrified scream and shouting, Sherlock’s fingertips ripping away from the clutch of his own and then a solid punch of water on Q’s back winded him, blinded him.

He automatically gasped, chocked on water, struggled with an instinctual fit of survival and breached the surface for a disorientating view of bridge-lights and black spots. A wet gasp rasped his throat, a shout of his name, nothing…

Heavy drag of bodies, hard stones beneath him and the terrible smell of the Thames waterline…

Q’s eyes made an attempt at opening, breath shallow and lungs heavy with water. Grey-blue eyes blurred and doubled above him. There was a hand on his belly carefully and stroking through his hair.

“Alright now Aster, all alright now.”

The words blurred into his mind and he dropped away.

Shouting, a thud that made him jump and terrifying scent of Sherlock’s blood on the air. There was a new figure staring down at him, dragging him sitting fast enough to make him blackout again.

Another spike of pain from a hardwood floor and he tried to reach for Sherlock near him, the name chocked on his lips, fingers clutching weakly at wet coat-wool…

A motor started under his head and the vibrations rattled his brain back under the dark water.

 

-00Q00-

 

“Q!” James bellowed over the side of the bridge, he couldn’t see anything, why couldn’t he see Q?

The vitals from Q’s trackers had stuttered before resuming sluggish but alive, the blip was moving fast towards him on the too dark to see river but Q would have heard that call-

“James!” John’s hands were shoving him violently.

He snapped back. The last minutes a blur to him of pulling up just in time to see them jump, putting a bullet through the biker’s brain and dashing to the edge before frantically checking Q’s readings.

Now a speedboat passed underneath them, and James aimed before he growled. He couldn’t risk shooting Q, but they were on that boat.

“Come on.” He called to John, already turning for the discarded bike. “They can’t know about the trackers. We’ll catch them.”

John was white-faced and tight-lipped and shaking with rage and adrenaline. There was no way to prove that Sherlock was alive. James couldn’t let himself think about the impossibilities. The doctor mounted his own bike under James’ impatient and forceful gaze, looking sick but determined.

“We’ll get them.” James affirmed before his nerve could leave and the inevitable panic grip him from knowing Q was in enemy hands. John nodded doggedly, his soldier mask falling back into place.

James couldn’t think about the alternative, not with his heart chocking his throat and panic beginning to throttle his mind.

 

-00Q00-

 

Q was awoken with a stinging blow to the face, his head whipped into the wet material of his sodden jumper clinging to bicep. He was cold, nearly frozen. The room smelt old and full of machine oil. Judging by the dim lighting and odd equipment he was in some sort of factory room. It was large and the cool air was making his tense muscles shiver and cramp.

“Oi, wake up!” Q forced eyes open into slits, breathing hard and shaky. His glasses were gone. He struggled to shift into a stand and hissed when feeling swam back into his wrists. Only with the pain did Q become fully aware of the fact that he was hanging from his arms, balls of his feet just touching the floor.

Dazed and feeling a sick sense of panic coil in his abdomen, the omega jerked, hearing the chain clank and the man laugh. His body protested the movement aggressively. Pain seared for a moment down his stretched arms, the angle making it hard to breathe. His back hurt from the strain, and his head throbbed and ached. His hip burned dully too. Q took some relief from the blinding panic that at least everything from the waist down felt fine.

Blasty was fine. Had to be. Despite everything that was a blur in his mind of tonight, there wasn’t pain other than nausea and familiar discomfort of overexertion from his belly.

Besides, Q would know, surely? Something wrong at this stage, nearly twenty weeks, he’d know, right?

It had to be fine. If Q didn’t keep telling himself that, he couldn’t prepare for whatever was about to happen to him.

The shadowy figure of a man appeared in his fuzzy eyesight, apparently calm, though it was hard to tell… everything within Q screamed danger, from his training to his instinct.

This was not good. At all. _Fuck_ , Q thought, mind spiralling into panic a bit deeper.

The man before him held up a tape player and clicked it.

“Now, my boss told me to get you talking. We don’t know who you are to the detective, but I hope for your sake you know something damn useful.”

Memory flared in Q’s mind and several facts flashed through his head. The stench of the Thames on them must be coating the scent of his and Sherlock’s familial relationship. They didn’t know he was Q; which was very good. They also had Sherlock, and clearly knew who he was, which was very, very bad. The man in front of him was a beta.

Q’s heart plummeted.

Betas were inclined to care about others, but Q’s pregnant and probably injured appearance wouldn’t affect the sympathies of a beta as strongly as they might curdle the same in an alpha.

Probably why the beta was interrogating him, whilst the alpha from the shore, probably Moran, took care of Sherlock. His body went numb with dread. But Q still pressed his lips together and attempted to keep calm for the lot of them.

Not only did his life depend on what happened next, but possibly Sherlock’s and definitely Blasty’s.

But he at least had to try…

“Please, I’m pregnant,” he attempted, voice tense and rough, throat feeling raw. He knew just from the man’s raised brow that it wouldn’t work.

“Oh, I know poppet.”

_Shit. Shit shit shit-_

The man drew back a fist.

“So I suggest you loosen up soon.” He swung and Q’s mind blanked and overrode into blind action.

Q grabbed the chain in both hands and jerked his knees up into the air under his chin, protecting his stomach from the hit even as he gasped out at the pain of his wrists. The blow was hard enough to jar his bones and swing him, the man swearing and clutching his knuckles at hitting shinbone instead of soft belly. The momentum and threat encouraged Q to throw out a savage double-kick whilst the man was distracted.

With a shout he went down as Q dropped his legs and tottered on the swinging chain to keep his footing, panting desperately.

“You little _bitch_!” The man lunged for him and Q dragged in breath and flinched his legs up again, feeling the burns and aches and swearing in his head as he prayed he could keep this up until James or MI6 found him.

Or the man attempting to batter him was dead.

But Q knew he couldn’t keep it up forever. Already he was panting and terrified.

 

-00Q00-

 

“I told you M, they weren’t after Q, it was his damn look a like brother- No I know that’s not an excuse! I’m on his trail, we were held up in the traffic but bikes apparently do come in handy. And now I’ve commandeered a car. Have medical evac ready, we’re nearly there.”

James shut down the call and threw the doctor’s phone onto the dashboard before M could ask who ‘we’ were. John was grim faced and keeping his eyes on the tracker beeping steadily within the set of warehouses they were coming in on.

Q’s vital signs were messy but present. Panicked and stressed but alive. James just didn’t know for how long, or what it would mean for their baby. They had no vitals readings for that.

“Sherlock will keep him safe.” John ground out firmly, an assurance. James didn’t like to crush hope, but he had no such delusions.

“If he can.” John glanced at him with wide eyes for a moment before he, too, accepted the truth of that statement. He’d been a soldier. He knew the chances when it came to vendettas.

And wasn’t that the thing as well? Because even with the worry of Q and their pup nearly drowning him in fear, there was still part of him worried for Sherlock as well.

The building was an ugly one; low squatted and partially below ground, dismally grey save for a few anciently outfitted offices. The lack of value of the place did give them a nicely un-repaired smashed window to get in through though.

It seemed utterly deserted, but James could smell occupants, and John could too by the tense cut of his mouth.

Gesturing the doctor to stay behind him, James headed off into the gloom, mentally begging Q to hold on.

 

-00Q00-

 

Q’s breath was loud and desperate in the room, the beta was loosing patience and had eventually grabbed for a pipe.

It kept him out of harms-way of Q’s legs, but the thing was heavy and hard to lift. The man was tiring too, and Q had more to fight for.

It wasn’t helping much. He wasn’t built to sustain this sort of thing, and the blows from the pipe were sufficient to make his body buckle and his head spin even if they weren’t at full strength.

As the man dropped the pipe with a curse to shake out his hands, Q vomited over his feet. His stinging eyes made it hard to see, through his hair as well, and his wrists were nearly shot, fingers numb and shoulders stabbing with pain. Blood was soaking into the fabric of his jumper and running down his arms.

Everything hurt. He could barely breathe. He was shaking enough to barely be able to stand and it hadn’t been more than fifteen minutes.

James always said it got easier: the start of torture was the worst, then the pain turned into too much for the body to handle. Became either numb or mutated in the brain to something else. Q could remember him saying that he’d welcomed unconsciousness.

But Q’s panic was so high that unless his heart gave out first, he wouldn’t. If he went down, the man would come for Blasty. If he stopped fighting, the man would start hurting Blasty. If he let himself get too injured, more harm would come to Blasty.

There was already too much pain for him to be sure nothing was wrong. But also he couldn’t tell if it was damage from the glancing blows of the pipe as Q careered and twisted out the way or simple bloody exhaustion. And then the stress, and his body could only take so much, and Blasty was so young. Hope wasn’t part of the equation. He _would not_ let this scum hurt his baby, not while he was still breathing. 

That had to be enough. It just had to be.

But it hurt, and he was terrified.

Q kept his eyes on the cursing man and tried not to hyperventilate whilst he sobbed uncontrollably, body tremoring violently and vision blacking out.

The man turned back to him, snarled.

“You’ll give up long before I do Poppet. Why not give in now.”

“I don’t know anything!” Q sobbed, gasping in breath. “Please, please stop, please-“

“Oh, you don’t know anything, innocent huh?” Q knew better than to react. “Kill you then, should I?”

“B-bastard.” Q stammered, voice getting feeble. When the next fist came, he wasn’t strong or quick enough to do more than twist out the way.

Q’s feet slid out, he lost his footing and swung back, screaming as his wrists caught the fall and his shoulders wrenched.

“Tell me, how Sherlock Holmes took down Moriarty’s network!” The beta shouted and slugged a hit at the off-his-feet Q in the kidneys. Crying out, Q hung for a moment in the chains, struggling for air.

“Now, are you going to tell me, or…” The pipe was brought to rest against Q’s belly.

He flinched, and lost control. Kicking and thrashing and screaming and generally giving reason to make the man back off. Q couldn’t take it, couldn’t stand it, he was in agony and terrified out of his wits for his baby, himself, his brother.

His mind couldn’t do more than beg for James and implode as his body finally succumbed to slumping in the chains, coughing and fuzzing in and out of awareness.

He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t win. He couldn’t fight.

_Blasty._

“No,” His strangled sob was so slurred and quiet it was nearly inaudible, and Q dissolved into sobs as the man drew closer, grabbed him by the hair and whispered in his ear more terrible thing after terrible thing.

 

-00Q00-

 

The building wasn’t hard to get through, unmanned as it was.

James led the way at a hurried creep and John followed until a sniff of the air had the beta freeze, then charge forwards.

The agent swore under his breath, jogging to keep up and cursing silently when they rounded a corner to see an open-doored room. Inside was Sherlock’s shaking figure being towered over by a moustached man straddled over his hips. In a split second James took in the details; knife to the beta’s bloody lips, clumps of torn hair strewn around the floor and the evidence of a masterful torture: slow and refined for psychological pain over long-term damage, marring both the room and bodies.

“-enjoy giving you lots of time to feel every one of his plans for you Sherlock Holmes.”

“Oh no you don’t!” John announced, voice raising to a shout and stepping over the threshold. Sebastian Moran looked up, down the barrel of the Doctor’s pistol, and was dead before he could blink. Two holes, between his eyes.

John rushed for Sherlock and lifted the man up as James threw the corpse off him. The room stank of torment.

The detective groaned and sagged in his friend’s arms.

“Come on, Sherlock, Sherlock stay with me-“ James checked the man’s eyes and pulse quickly, he was in danger of shock, probably needed a blanket. Running a hand down the beta’s spine had him flinch around the lumbar region, but he appeared unharmed. Probably threatened with paralysis injuries.

He would be fine, thank god. At least by James’ standards.

“Get him out.” James barked roughly, nerves strung to breaking point at the standard of professionalism. This man hadn’t tried so hard to break Sherlock’s body; therefore Moran must have targeted his mind. He spotted weaknesses. And Q had one huge one to exploit. He couldn’t stand spending the time here to wait for the two betas, civilians or not.

Heart thudding James didn’t wait for a response, John’s ‘like hell’ remark and call to wait from behind was barely recognised as the beta dragged up his staggering fellow and stumbled after the alpha.

Senses on high alert, it didn’t take James long to smell his Q.

And fear.

Teeth clenched and bared so much it was painful James slipped around a wall and silently into a large room. The man was blocking his view of Q and James skirted around, knowing the stench of Thames on Q would mask his scent.

He longed to sink teeth into the man, but couldn’t tell if he was armed and needed to get him away from Q at all costs.

Once at the side, he had a clear line, and the struggles of John and Sherlock became audible, drawing the beta around, snarling in confusion, moving away to pick up a pipe off the floor.

James fired.

The shots made Q flinch and John swear, freezing just out of sight. He emptied the Walther’s magazine into the man’s lifeless corpse and breathed out deeply for a single moment till the shake was gone. Then he lowered his gun and holstered it as he ran for Q.

“Q, love.” The omega was shaking like a broken thing and crying uncontrollably through clenched teeth. “Q,” his hands found his precious mate’s bruised and bloodied face, stroking once briefly, hurriedly with shaking fingers and then wrapping his arms around the heaving chest and lifting.

Q’s exclamation of pain tore through James but he continued until the weight wasn’t on mangled wrists anymore. Behind him John was cursing and Sherlock growling.

“J-J-Jame-s-s”

“Shh, shh I’m here, I’ve got you, I need you to stand for a moment Q, can you do that?”

“Tr-tried, Blasty-“ Q’s voice died in a whispered slur as the man slumped, just James’ hands keeping him upright as the alpha’s stomach speared with frightened dread at the words.

“I know you did love. I know, don’t try to talk.” John, evidently having deposited the barely-conscious Sherlock in the doorway, reached up and unlocked the cuffs on Q’s wrists.

“Don’t let them drop.” James insisted to the doctor, who nodded. “Guide them down, shh love, you’re doing fine.” He coaxed, using his head to support his mate’s lolling one, smelling the terrified sweat on his skin.

Q’s body was shaking apart in his arms and James lowered him carefully to the floor as he started coughing and failing.

Red-tinted vomit splattered the concrete and James buried his face in Q’s hair for long moments, holding him and counting the beats of his heart until the omega relaxed again.

He smelt of abuse and torture, and James could barely focus through it, shushing and assessing through bare touch and sight, smell.

“I’ve got you, we’re getting out of here.” Q clutched his hand.

“T-tape, tape” James glanced at the thing and shushed Q, sitting him up slowly and gently.

“It’s alright-“

“Nooo,” Q moaned, head lolling and tears springing from behind closed eyes. “Tape’s p-proof,”

“They’re dead. No need for proof.”

“No!” Q demanded though it was feeble, and cracked open his eyes, barely focusing on James. The sight was terrible. He needed to get Q out. The alpha slowly lifted Q into his arms.

“I d-didn’t say an-any-any-“

“I know you didn’t.” James hurried to assure, though he knew no such thing. He couldn’t care right now in the slightest, turning for the door and seeing John drag Sherlock upright.

“Noo!” Q sobbed and jerked in his arms, dissolving into weak tears, sweat breaking out all over him as he shivered. “You won’t believe me unless you hear it!” Q managed in a half-shouted rush, face draining rapidly of all colour and eyes rolling to James’ deliriously, feeble wriggling somehow stopping him from moving.

“I need to get you to a hospital.” James tried, growing half desperate, Q smelt too bloody distressed, looked increasingly sick, was battered and beaten and pregnant and seemed so exhausted the energy seemed burned from inside out, leaving him raw and vulnerable to death’s grip.

“James-“ Q begged, tossing in his arms and sending James’ ratcheted pulse higher with every strangled gasp.

“For god sake just get the tape! He’s out of his mind delirious and wont calm until you do!” Sherlock rasped, barely standing against John, who was looking on with medical frantic.

“He’s right, you need to get him out and calm him down and the best way to do that is the tape.”

They were right, of course, and James should have grabbed it at first anyway, but it meant moving Q more to retrieve the damn thing.

“Okay, okay, I’ve got it Q, I’m getting you out now, just stay with me. That’s good.”

It wasn’t really. Q was rasping like a dying fish and his eyes were rolling up. James swallowed curses and terror and struck up a smart pace to the car.

John and Sherlock were nearly faint with exhaustion by the time they got there and James wasn’t much better.

He placed Q carefully in the passenger seat and belted him in, kissing his head, running fingers through his hair, settling him in as quickly as possible even though he’d lost consciousness completely. One of James’ hands shakingly caressed Q’s stomach briefly, tearing himself away before he could comprehend the likelihood of their pup’s fate. John helped load Sherlock in, who passed out not one minute down the road.

They ran into the MI6 medical team in two minutes and James swiftly got out and barked them over.

He didn’t know the extent of Q’s injuries, but he’d lost quite a bit of blood from his wrists and his scent was almost destructed, littered with occasional bruises under his clothes when medical stripped him of the soaked garments in the ambulance. And it could have been worse, so much worse, but this was enough.

James had just enough presence of mind to snarl a couple of medics towards John and Sherlock before he mounted into the ambulance and watched Q with horrified fixation.

He didn’t know how deep or extensive the damage was. Blood pressure was low and dropping, Q’s breathing struggling and responding sluggishly to reflex tests. There was no bleeding from Q to suggest miscarriage but he was going into shock and Blasty’s vitals weren’t normal.

Q was failing.

James sat on the other bench and shook down to his core, unable to tear his eyes away from his mate surrounded by doctors and nurses as they raced to stabilise both Q and their baby.

Their baby. Secondary priority to the MI6 medical team. But James knew Q had nearly just given his life for their pup. And his whole body was designed to protect the foetus from damage, and there were no hits to directly there, but James had no idea how little general bodily abuse it took to hurt a foetus.

Oxygen and IVs were pumped and pierced into Q, an ultrasound machine waved frantically over his belly. James could only sit in a numb horror and watch his life fall to pieces, not even allowed to hold Q’s hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was the one bit in the story that I always knew was going to happen. I'm sure there are some people understandably upset by the events, but that's just how my plots tend to go, and if there are any questions/worries or furious rants at my person, I shall do my best to help how I can!  
> The next chapter is well started, and you can be assured of copious amounts of fluff in the future.
> 
> Now I'll just hide somewhere...
> 
> Thanks for reading, commenting and kudosing n_n


	26. H0: External facts are Bond's to give; H1: Internal facts are Q's to trust.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is this a few days early? I think it's a few days early! x3
> 
> Thank you for all the lovely comments from last time guys, I hope you enjoy!  
> Beware; this chapter is very angst-ful, and maybe a bit heavy going...considering its nearly 9000 words again *smacks face*  
> Anyway! Enjoy

Q had very fragmented moments of waking. He was floating near the surface and could hear familiar voices, or odd moments of pressure. His body didn’t respond and he couldn’t open his eyes…

Weakness made him tremble and a hand covered his, hushing into his ear. Everything felt strange and wrong. Mercifully black…

Heat ravaged him awake next, and the sound of whining, the bed he was on was shaking violently and something was crawling up his throat. Q coughed and it _burned_ and shouting and something cool and everything felt wet and cloying. His mind ran away from it…

He felt heavy. He felt heavy and leaden and his abdomen was numb and that couldn’t be right, he couldn’t feel anything!

“Bl-Bl-sss-“ His own voice terrified him with the weakness and someone was holding him, talking- Q couldn’t understand the deep reverberations and he was shaking, he couldn’t feel his pup and where was James? Fret mangled his twisted and dark sleep…

Light cracked under Q’s eyelids when he woke next. He felt better yet worse. Definitely in his own body and mind, but with the sort of blanketing weight through him that promised severe pounding if movement was attempted. His head was stuffed with cotton and pressed half into a pillow. Not his own.

He was on his side, unable to process moving. Barely thinking except for the knowledge that something was wrong. He should be worried about something vital.

A sniff brought his mate’s scent, _James_. The word must have escaped his fluff-stuffed mouth because there was movement beside him and James’ familiar hands on his shoulder and hair.

“Q? Can you hear me?” His voice sounded ragged, strained. Why? Q attempted to lift his head, managed to move a bare few millimetres over the pillow instead.

“Shh, don’t try to move love. You need to rest.” Q tried to ask ‘why?’ but it sounded more like ‘wuh?’

“Shh,” James soothed again, voice nearly calm, deceptively so, and his hand stroking Q’s hair was so relaxing. But he didn’t know what he was doing here, it wasn’t his bed, he couldn’t move. Q’s breathing sped up, he tried to move, really couldn’t much and it worried him into a whimper.

“Easy, Q, you’re alright. Please don’t move love, you’re in hospital, you have to keep still, nice and still for me, you can do that right?” Q was scared, mostly because James sounded worried. A frightened sob escaped him. James leant over to kiss his neck calmingly and his shirt brushed Q’s fingers. He tried to clutch it with weak fingertips, and James offered him a hand instead, sliding it oh so gently around Q’s and cradling it.

“Please don’t ever scare me again.”

Q didn’t understand the words, tried to cling to them, but heavy numbness had reached his mind and wrapped around him.

 

-00Q00-

 

Something was missing. Q looked down and saw a gaping hole in his stomach, blood and guts drawn out and on the floor was a tiny foetus kicking like a dead fish-

Terrified screaming woke him up, thrashing, only the pain in his throat let him know it was his own voice.

“Q, Q calm down! Please love just calm down.” His eyes flew open and the blurred blonde form of James hovered over him. Another man’s murderous face flashed through his mind and Q promptly vomited over the bed, hands fighting cuffs and ankles the same and it terrified him.

“Shh, please shh.” James swam back to him, holding him down and the pressure of the mattress on bruises had him hissing, eyes opening to a white room.

Not grey. And a bed not chains.

“‘M I-n asylum?” Q asked, voice strained and breathy, head unbelievably foggy. Whatever was in his blood stream was powerfully confounding.

“No, no Q, you’re in the hospital.” James prompted, taking a deep breath and calming slightly now that Q wasn’t thrashing anymore. Working the soiled sheet out and away from under Q’s body.

“Why?” He got the impression of asking before, and James paused for a moment that should probably worry him, but he felt sick and scared already, and just couldn’t remember why.

“I can’t think…” The sheet and smell was removed and the familiar cool plastic of glasses slipped behind his ears. James’ lined and shadowed face cleared. The glasses were askew, but it didn’t matter, he couldn’t lift his arms even if he wasn’t tied down.

“That’s okay. You’re on some pretty powerful stuff.” Forgetting the restraints, Q tried to reach for James, frowning.

“You l’k s’tired?” Q murmured distraughtly, feeling hugely upset by how exhausted James looked, wanting to wipe it away. Evidently the man took cue from his weakly grasping hands, and bent with a shuddered breath to rest his head by Q’s neck, kissing his throat slightly. Q nuzzled into him, mildly annoyed by the rubbing of his glasses, but the scent of James’ hair was wonderful and entirely consuming.

Q dragged his nose back and forth slowly through the short blonde hair, and inhaled deeply, letting the calming scent seep into his marrow, distracted until James placed an oh so gentle hand on his belly.

Everything froze.

It felt odd.

Different.

Dead.

“J-James?” His voice was high, scared and confused, eyes shutting tight and hands clenched. “Why can’t I feel anything?”

“Shh Q, its alright-“ Q’s entire world crashed and he bucked against James to get up, to see, fighting against the bindings on him again as panic gripped his throat and smothered his pounding heart.

“Let me see! What happened! What happened to Blasty?” His screaming and thrashing had alerted nurses to the bedside as Q fought James’ arms desperately, lightheaded and struck mad with terror.

He could remember the man, the dream, the pipe, he’d tried- he’d tried. He’d tried, he’d triedhe’dtried _he’dtriedhe’dtried_ -

“Q _breathe_ dammit! Listen to me! Blasty’s fine, our pup’s still fine, Blasty’s right here.” James’ hand curved over his belly and Q sobbed, shaking and jerking in terror, unable to believe, refusing to accept what his body was telling him was a lie.

“Then why can’t I _feel_ anything? Why can’t I _feel_ Blasty _moving_?” James’ face was agonised.

“The doctors said that with what happened, the foetus was under some distress-“ Q’s wide eyes flew around, trying to look down at his stomach, concealed from view by James’ bulk.

“Why are you calling Blasty ‘the foetus’?” Q demanded in panic. James looked agonised at the slip and reached to hold Q’s head and coax him back onto his side, apologising.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, you’ve been out for two days, the doctors kept saying it, I just, It’s been tough. I’m sorry.” Q was struggling with all the facts, with the idea of James being distressed. The nurses were moving around behind him and he still couldn’t feel anything.

“James please,” he begged, tears cracking his voice. Blue eyes met his soulfully.

“You lost some blood, and went into shock, and your blood pressure went too far down… Blasty’s vitals became distressed-“

“Oh god, oh god, James-“ the alpha wrapped arms around Q and murmured a desperate hush into his ear.

“Shh its okay love, it was temporary, Blasty’s vitals are back up to normal. Your body did everything it could. God for a moment I thought-“ James cut himself off, and Q’s blood ran slightly cold at the idea of what James had had to live through. “-I thought you were going to leave me.” Q’s breath hitched at the rough words from his mate, the trembling muscles.

“Darling, what?”

“You were giving too much of your blood to Blasty, and you weren’t getting enough oxygen for yourself. They thought you were slipping into a coma Q.”

Where he could, he clung to James’ shirt. His wrists ached, and Q could see even before his wide eyes the flashes of that factory room. He had had nothing but desperation left in there.

“B-but I can’t, I tried, James I tried, I tried-“

“Hey easy, shh love. You did brilliantly; you saved our pup’s life you stunning thing.” James was kissing his face between shaking words, reassuring him, and Q clung and shook as his mind trembled. “You were both stressed, and you’re on some pretty strong pain killers. Safe ones. You both need some time to recover, okay? Blasty will feel better when you’re stronger. You just have to rest, so please rest.”

“I n-nearly lost everything, I always thought-“

“But you _didn’t_.” James insisted, but the terror of his pup’s stillness and the horror he’d endured in that place; sure he was going to be unable to defend his unborn baby, was imbedded like barbs into his skin.

“ _I_ nearly lost everything.” James muttered, probably not meant to be heard, against Q’s hair. The omega’s harsh breath was loud in the room even as he shook his head, clutching James for all he was worth.

“’M scared, I’m so scared.” Q shuddered the words out, shaking to his core and mind blurring with the stress.

“I’ve got you now, nothing’s going to happen to you Q. Just sleep, you need to sleep.”

Dull thoughts swirled in front of his brain for a few minutes, memories. With a flinch and struggled attempt back into full awareness Q remembered that it wasn’t just him and Blasty in that hell.

“Sh-Sherly?”

“He’s fine, your brother’s fine. John’s with him.” With a long sigh of half relief Q slumped back further, still clutching to James and nudging his nose forwards until he could catch the strong scent at his mate’s neck, letting the slightly unsteady smell coax him to unstable sleep.

 

-00Q00-

 

“How is he?”

“He’s woken up a bit. It hasn’t been good.” Q frowned at the voices above him, heard their focus turn to him more. The weight of his reality hung heavily enough over him that he didn’t want to open his eyes though.

 _Blasty_ …

“Q, love? Are you awake?” James’ hand found his hair, sounding worried. Q couldn’t find the energy to verbally respond. He felt flat, emotionless and numb. As if if he dared to feel anything all the walls would come crashing down around him.

Depression, dissociative state. The words tripped through his mind in morbid familiarity.

Q’s hands touched his stomach, still swollen, still carrying the pup he’d nearly lost, couldn’t feel. His arms must have been un-cuffed.

“Q?” James sounded so wrecked that Q forced himself to open his eyes. He could do that. He could pretend everything was functioning…even if he had no feelings to back it up.

He was on his side still, pale blue and white obstacles met his gaze: pillows and wall. James’ warm hand in his hair was almost tentative.

“Love? How are you feeling?” Q took a small breath, tried to catalogue his body, but couldn’t really register anything beyond the lack of life he felt. For a moment fear gripped him, how would he know if Blasty suddenly did slip away? Or maybe they were all lying to him and just didn’t think he could take the truth that he’d lost James’ pup? Or maybe he was disassociating from Blasty, or the other way around? Surely that would lead to problems?

“Q, Q _please_ ,” James’ voice was desperate and distraught. Q secondarily became aware of his hard breathing and fists clenched in the sheets and clutching his stomach.

There was a hand sliding under his face and tilting him to meet his mate’s near terrified blue eyes.

“Talk to me.” Q felt bad, he really did, but he couldn’t honestly respond to James’ begging. Q had one of those horrible moments of recognition. _This is madness. I remember this feeling of madness._

With effort Q unclenched his hands, resting them on his belly instead as if that might help hold him and his baby together. He met James’ eyes with his half-lidded ones, taking in the stress his alpha, his poor James, was experiencing.

“I’m cold.” It wasn’t exactly a lie, Q couldn’t really feel anything that seemed to matter more than the lack of movement, but James looked relieved at having a goal, something to do, and kissed Q’s head with a near desperate smile.

“Okay, Okay I’ll get you a blanket.” With another kiss Q was lowered back to the bed and James had moved off. Q heard a door open and close, and hated himself for feeling relieved.

Someone else moved in behind him.

“Q?” It was surprise at hearing John Watson’s voice more than anything that made Q focus, seeing that in his daze he’d missed the doctor moving around to rest his arms on the bed near his head. Comfortable closeness, relaxed. The man was used to bedsides. He looked worried, though not surprised at the omega’s behaviour, and calmer than James. Serious but relaxed about it. Once sure of Q’s eye contact, the man smiled.

“Did James fill you in on everything?” The man was so unfamiliar to Q’s history that he seemed almost entirely non-threatening, yet unknown and therefore potentially so. Q was tired of over-analysing, but couldn’t stop it.

“How’s Sherlock?” He murmured instead, his dry throat left him coughing, but he refused water from the doctor with a weak hand. John set the glass back and sighed, face falling a bit.

“Insufferable, so probably on the mend. It’d probably help if he could see you to be honest, when you’re feeling stronger.” Q’s eyes fell away. “I don’t think he’ll be able to relax until he knows your safe.” Closing his eyes and nodding, because it seemed like what the man wanted, Q heard John breathe a relieved sigh and hold his shoulder gently.

“Thank you.” Q shrugged a bit, partly because he didn’t want the hand on him anymore, which he could admit to himself was partly because he couldn’t accept an attempt at comfort right now. John only half seemed to accept the hint, the hand left his shoulder but contact met his arm instead.

“Mycroft’s been held up by the situation, he seems furious, or inconsolable, he could barely get a word out. Anyway he’s coming by later-“

“How long have we, been here?” Q had to stop to swallow, and heard James come back in the room.

“Three days now, its five o’clock.” John moved back so that James could drape a warm, soft blanket over Q.

“Eve wants to see you too, I’ve been putting her off, you're meant to be on limited visitors as it is for a week.” James supplied in a gentle voice. Q’s mind dulled a bit.

“A week?” He managed, numbly. James stroked his cheek tenderly.

“The doctors want you moving as little as possible, you’ve been through a lot Q.” He nodded listlessly, and then turned his eyes to James.

“Water?” Again looking only too happy to be given a role, James leapt to it.

Q tried as hard as he could to resist the nauseous feeling that swamped him with just a few sips. James thankfully, versed in the effects of stress on the body as he was, knew better than Q when to hold back and when to let him take sips.

For a while that was all the sound in the room. Q had the ridiculous thought that the more he could drink the better Blasty would feel. Abruptly he felt both starving and sick to his stomach, pushing the water away with a brief noise of protest.

“H-have I eaten anything? Can I eat?” Q asked, and James ran a hand over his hair, shushing gently.

“You’ve been put on nutrients, Blasty’s getting everything a growing pup needs, and so are you. Dr. Darcy is going to come see you after he’s done with his clinic tomorrow. But he wanted to wait until you felt a bit better.”

Q felt helpless, powerless. He was sure he should feel secure and safe, but he just felt lost and he missed feeling Blasty, he missed feeling strong enough to hug James. Tears snagged his throat and Q turned into the pillow, almost wishing he could go back to the feeling of nothing from earlier. John removed himself subtly and James was moving to hold Q, silent and steady.

Q’s hands held onto his stomach, wishing he could feel something.

 

-00Q00-

 

Q cried himself to sleep. James didn’t think he’d been able to do a thing to help his distraught and distressed mate feel better for the last three days.

The omega was hardly awake, and when he was Q was clearly so weak that even lifting his head up was a problem.

James sat with his hand over his mouth, unable to tear his eyes away from Q’s pallid complexion, the shadows under his eyes, the clumped fan of wet dark lashes on his cheeks.

He felt utterly useless. Q had been hurt nearly under his very nose, and the ‘what ifs’ had been agonising him for the last three days.

Torture. Q had escaped this far in his MI6 career without it, and to have it happen now, whilst he was pregnant…

James knew what even a short amount of torture could do to a human, and Q must have been out of his mind with terror for his pup. It was unsurpassable cruelty. And James couldn’t be sure that Q would be able to recover from it. Not when he knew Q, who was so strong, but had always been deathly afraid of this.

They both had, but only Q had ever truly believed that he could loose their baby. To have it nearly happen…and they weren’t out of the woods yet, James could see exactly how badly his younger mate was coping with it.

Worse, James couldn’t even blame him for it. He had been ready to shoot himself to save Q, but that was exactly the problem: he could do nothing.

Their pup relied entirely on Q to stay healthy and safe. Q had doctors to help him recover from the trauma, to feed him, give him pain killers and advice, tell him what to do and how to get better.

James could do nothing. The only thing he could do for his suffering and weak mate was try to comfort him, and he was so worried that he was hardly a calming presence. All he could do was be there for Q, and he would be, but it was agonising to watch Q suffer and be unable even to offer a pint of blood for transfusion. They weren’t even the same type, even if Q did still need it.

He had failed to keep Q safe where it counted, even though the alpha could acknowledge he had no way of protecting Q from every horror of the world. But here, in the hospital, he could do absolutely nothing for their pup and just about as little for Q.

“He’ll get better.” John kept saying, determined and sure. James was glad the man was here, but the words didn’t make him feel better.

He still felt the need to save Q, but the saving was done, and Q was barely conscious and coping even worse.

He felt lost.

One hand drifted to stroke Q’s cold ones, careful of the IVs and monitoring devices, and then caressed over the swollen belly.

Tomorrow Q would be 20 weeks pregnant; half way there, and instead of glowing and having a check up, he was lying in a hospital bed and being monitored by a nurse every twenty minutes.

They’d even had to cuff him the first two days, given how bad he would shake and thrash at first. The doctors kept insisting how important it was that he lay still, rested, for both him and the baby. Any further stress could turn the tables for the worst. Blasty wasn’t even vaguely viable, and although it had been 20 weeks, four and a half months, the doctors wouldn’t think twice about saving Q and removing Blasty if the foetus became a danger to the omega’s health.

James couldn’t say he’d do any different. But to them it would be just another statistic.

They’d tell Q ‘you can try again in a month’. James knew that he never would. If this didn’t work, and maybe even if it did, Q would never be prepared to suffer the same heartbreak. That, James was sure of.

Or maybe it was just him feeling that way.

When the paramedics had started panicking in the ambulance, saying that Q was going into shock and wasn’t getting enough blood to his brain because the omega was diverting everything to his foetus, James had been ready to throw up or scream at Q to save his own damn life, to not leave James alone in this hell of a world.

But beneath his hand Q’s belly was warm and slightly round, he’d been watching the monitors with desperate attention each time the doctors conducted an ultrasound to monitor their pup. Rumbles may not be moving much, but the heartbeat was undeniable. He’d only felt half-guilty after his moment in the ambulance, but there had been guilt nonetheless. Q was his mate, James couldn’t honestly name a single thing he’d put before the damn genius who’d enraptured him, but the pup Q had nearly died for was James’ responsibility too. Not yet, maybe not till their baby was born, would James put Rumbles above Q… maybe not ever. But even feeling that guilt for something so debatable was telling. They were both in deep, and he couldn’t be sure that if something else did go wrong, that they would both recover.

He wouldn’t lose Q. That much James knew he’d fight for. But until then, God he could barely even stand the thought of Q trying to get himself out of bed unaided. Though knowing what he did of torture, of life, James knew he’d have to hold back where he could.

James leant close, resting his head on Q’s belly with the barest pressure and breathing slowly.

“I know you’re tired pup, but your mum really needs you to move, can you do that for him?” James got no reply, of course. Neither had he when the first ultrasound in the ICU had proven Rumbles’ heartbeat. The doctors had left and James had been unable to control himself from cracking and breaking down onto Q’s belly for half an hour, uttering assurances of love and health and anything else he could think of, begging both unresponsive bodies to be okay.

“Just get strong again, please.”

He stayed there for a while, contemplating Sherlock’s stubbornly speedy recovery, still with patchy hair, John had tormented the poor man with suggesting a certain cap he seemed to loathe. James had spent some time with them both, loath though he was to leave Q’s side, John had turfed him out to stretch the legs and get a change of scenery for short, regular intervals. Q’s bedside was hardly calming for nerves; the scent of his traumatised omega in the room was enough to make James feel sick with worry and impotence.

Mycroft had rung James shortly and near-silently. Offering only a simple ‘I’ll be there as soon as I can’. Both brothers had held a silent but obvious tension, but James was glad the doctors had kept Sherlock away from Q so far. John had only been allowed in because the staff recognised his sensible nature and calming effect on everyone around him. He was surprised by Mycroft’s delay, but had to remind himself of the man’s government position, his experience with Sherlock in rehab, and his ability to monitor the hospital remotely from afar. The oldest Holmes brother was probably the other person who’d been watching Q the most out of anyone, even if it was remotely. Sherlock’s room too, no doubt.

Mostly James had been left to stare at Q with the hope that his gorgeous eyes would open again. MI6 had kept in regular contact. Eve was beside herself and Tanner was strict with his grief. Q branch appeared a mixture of inconsolable and determinedly brave-hearted. M had lowly and solemnly told James to take all the time he needed, and that although Q would have a swarm of visitors flocking to see him, that he would hold them off until, at James’ discretion, Q was able to handle seeing anybody.

James was grateful, but hadn’t been able to respond outside of short, sharp answers.

R was handling Q branch, decently enough that Q would be proud, the man seemed determined not to let his boss down, and surprisingly 005 had risen to lend a heavy helping hand to the branch, confined to a wheelchair as he was. He seemed to be helping to buoy branch moral, distraught as they were for their enigmatic leader.

Dr. Darcy was agonised too, and endlessly sympathetic. James was ashamed to say he’d nearly lost composure in front of the man, as he was one of the first familiar faces allowed in to see Q. He’d been encouragingly honest and down to earth whilst remaining calmly positive and hopeful. He’d given James the straight facts, explained what Q had gone through and what needed to happen to ensure both omega and pup’s recovery and return to health, and he’d told James honestly that although he might feel any number of things from scared to furious to helpless over the recovery period, that Q would be feeling the same, that they had to communicate, and that the best thing James could do was to be there with Q. Through the good and bad mood swings, the ups and downs, to just talk to each other and stay; try to do one positive thing together each day, even as simple as watching the TV together or sharing a meal.

“And it _will_ help. Even on your worst days, that _will_ help.”

James had appreciated the advice, could see the wisdom in the man’s eyes, and valued the honesty and simplicity.

It seemed hard to process as something that could help when he felt so _helpless_ to help Q, but James could already understand that what he wanted more than anything right now was to see Q smile, or to hold him close without his mate in pain or distress.

He didn’t realise he’d been sitting there for an hour until his buzzing phone alerted him to the time. As he looked at the caller, one of the very few numbers on his secure phone, James felt a desperate surge of need and answered the phone with an urgency he hadn’t felt since the ambulance.

 _“James! Just got back and the whole place is a mess like a morgue. Tell me you’re alright.”_ James’ voice caught, so relieved to hear his friend’s voice, a familiar face in the crowd.

“Alec,” He choked off, and could almost feel Alec’s attention shift up to maximum.

_“Talk to me.”_

And he did, haltingly, his voice turning from an emotive growl into a feeble choke and eventually wearing out completely.

 _“Are you okay?”_ Alec asked, very seriously, at the end. From anyone else James would have belted abuse or hung up. With Alec he laughed hollowly.

“I can barely talk to him, he’s barely awake and when he is… God he’s fucking traumatised Alec, and I can’t blame him, but I can’t help, I can barely hold him. It’s worse than dying. Its worse than Vesper.”

 _“Shit, right. So you’re fucked beyond belief. I’m coming over.”_ James huffed out a harsh laugh that sounded more like a sob.

“Not tonight, his brother’s coming over, and that’s going to be enough. Come over tomorrow or Wednesday, he’ll be glad to see you then.” There was a soft pause.

 _“He’s glad to see you too mate.”_ James took a slow drink of Q’s water, and wished for something stronger. He meant to say ‘I know’, but what came out was-

“…I don’t know.”

 _“James. Don’t be a tosser.”_ He growled.

“Think about it Alec! Even ignoring the fact that I failed him, nearly got him killed or at least our pup, it’s at least my fault for getting him pregnant to begin with. He didn’t even think he was ready for a baby, he just knew he wanted one with me…” James’ self-hateful rant turned into utter silence, just the quiet beep of Q’s heart monitor filling the room along with threadbare breaths from both mates.

Alec took a sniff, slowly.

 _“James, I know you want some fucking epiphany right now, but all I can do is tell you you’re wrong.”_ James snorted derisively, wishing he were more drunk by the second. _“Now here’s what’s gonna happen, I’m going to give you a choice. Either I can come over now, and do whatever it takes to kick some life back into that body of yours, or you can sit there alone and in the dark –don’t lie, I know you haven’t turned the lights on- and make the pair of you both feel worse by feeding off each other’s misery. Omegas are sensitive to that shit, and you’re lying if you’re telling yourself you’re any better.”_

James didn’t know whether he wanted to punch Alec or break into hysterics. But he knew the man was right. Still, the thought of moving even a hair away from Q felt like abandoning him to his trauma.

“I told you, his brother’s coming over-“

 _“Which means he’ll have someone there with him. Come on James, have you even showered? Think Q needs you to fall apart right now?”_ James growled at his oldest friend’s presumptions and attitude.

“Fine. But don’t expect me to enjoy it.” James grunted back, and promptly hung up. His eyes went back to Q; pale and weak and breaking, and hoped to god that he was doing the right thing.

Alec turned up in half an hour. Within that time James had braved sending a message to Mycroft to say he was going for a change of clothes. The other alpha replied that he would be by in forty-five minutes, and that if James could wait it would be appreciated.

A knock heralded Alec, who must be taking Q into consideration, because when has the man ever knocked?

James pulled open the door to be met with the sight of a dripping Alec wearing a sodden leather jacket and muddy boots. It was a wonder he’d been let through the reception. He was also holding a bottle of vodka and some drooping flowers in one hand that looked more like weeds, and a pack of cigarettes in the other.

“Drink, smoke, punch or hug? How do you want to start this thing?” James had to fight the urge to slam the door in his face and run back to Q, though he couldn’t think why. Alec read his face whistled slightly.

“All four it is. Might be tricky with my hands full.”

“Bastard.”

“Speak for yourself.” Alec shrugged, moving past and circling towards the bed.

“You’re not going to offer me the flowers too?” James bit out snidely, letting the door swing shut. Alec cast him a mock-outraged look.

“These beauties are for Q I’ll have you know.” The alpha then turned to the bed and quietly set his gifts down in the chair, silently fixing another glass of water to put the rather sorry looking plants in, and turned to Q, all traces of humour gone from his face.

“Damn, quartermaster.” Alec muttered, reaching out to push his wet hair back and then tracing a thumb over the bruise-like shadow under one of Q’s eyes. With anyone else, James might have flown into a protective rage. But here, with Alec, all the fight simply left him.

The other alpha’s hand rubbed knuckles down Q’s arm; careful not to touch his belly, though it looked like he wanted to.

“Recovery estimate?” James sloped closer as if dragging his body through water, feeling increasingly leaden with fatigue, and he still had to deal with Mycroft.

“For which one of them?” James asked in an exhausted and strained tone. “They’re living off each other at this point. Rumbles should do fine, so long as Q doesn’t move. And until Rumbles moves, Q wont be fine no matter how recovered he is. And even then, who can fucking tell.”

Alec hitched a quiet laugh, fonder than actual laughter.

“Rumbles eh? Christ you’re domestic… So your pup’s moving?” Alec turned to James, and his mild excitement died at the hollow look on James’ face.

“Was. Q’s felt it for two weeks, and I got a few days. Now nothing.” Alec’s face was angry for them and grief-stricken, and James didn’t need to continue, but there were some stages of grief that the self-help books left out, like the moment when you decided to awfullise, or horrify strangers with things nobody needed to know. Those moments when you wanted to punish and hurt the world to vindictively make yourself feel better, or just feel something. Not that it ever fucking works.

“He’s destroyed by it. Probably thinks that we’re all lying, that his pup’s dead inside him, or that its some sign that its in the process of dying-“

“Christ James.” Alec took one step over and shook James hard enough to make his head hurt before looking him in the eyes with a long breath. Wordlessly he reached for the vodka, unscrewed it and pushed it into James’ hands.

“Take a drink. _One_. Just to get you warm blooded, then we’re going to get you out of here and vaguely respectable.” As had happened so often with bad missions, James let himself slip into the military fallback of taking orders from someone he trusted. As far back as he could remember that had always been Alec. He’d done the same in return enough times.

Beyond refusal, James took a long few gulps. Alec hadn’t saved on the cost –when had he ever when it came to vodka- and in a few gulps warmth was spreading into his veins.

Q was still comatose on the bed when Alec took back the bottle and pocketed it, picking up the cigarettes as well. James moved past to Q’s side whilst Alec faffed, giving him time, and bent close, hands sliding onto his lover. One hand in thick, matted hair, the other stroking up from belly to chest under Q’s right arm, kissing his cheek and then neck lingeringly.

“I’ll be back soon, love.” He wanted to say more, that he was sorry for leaving, that Alec was right and he really did need to, that he could barely stand to leave, but his throat closed up, so instead he brushed Q’s drooping hair out the way, able to stroke it back slightly to kiss his hairline before withdrawing.

As he disentangled, there was a rap on the door-wood on the small glass window, and Mycroft Holmes was pushing the door open, but not stepping in.

“James,” He greeted, voice solemn and professional. The alpha looked back at Alec over his shoulder, who was assessing Mycroft silently.

“Give me a minute?” His fellow agent shrugged and took the seat beside Q. James turned and moved into the corridor to brief Mycroft, who was holding the door open for him.

Outside the lighting was bright and harsh, giving the older alpha a stone-like appearance.

“How is he doing?” James was surprised by the softness of tone, and had to remind himself that this man was much fonder of Q than he usually appeared. James made the choice then and there not to lie. He’d obscured the truth from Sherlock, and even John he hadn’t really talked to, but this man was probably asking for verification on what he already knew. And he’d deserved James’ honesty so far, if nothing else.

“Badly, but within reason.”

“Dissociative?” Mycroft asked sharply, and James was impressed to hear the man say it out loud. As if reading his expression, Mycroft’s gaze lowered. “I do not believe in repeating mistakes. Nor ignoring the information they provide.” Aware he wasn’t up to games and conflict, tired and near-defeated as he was, James just shrugged with a long breath.

“Maybe. He hasn’t been awake much, and he’s beyond entitled.” Mycroft nodded, looked at James carefully, and moved to open the door.

“I expect I know enough of the rest, or can find out, I mean to visit Sherlock after anyway. Go and get some rest, James. You’ve done enough.”

Even though he felt it shouldn’t, it felt like praise of a sort rather than a condemnation. Beyond knowing what to think, James just nodded and waited for Alec to come and join him.

“Ready to go?”

“Alright.”

 

-00Q00-

 

“I’ll be back soon, love.” It wasn’t until Q heard the words that he fully computed the slight jostling with being awake, and even then he took a while to understand that James was going somewhere. The door closed, and in the silence, he realised that James actually had left.

He frowned a little, wondering if he’d missed something in between, but really, he didn’t expect the man to stay here constantly.

Or maybe he just couldn’t take the pressure of having James here right now. Maybe he was glad.

 _That’s a terrible thought Q_. The omega thought to himself. But he couldn’t help it. It was easier to not pretend to be anything right now. Taking a small, slightly pained gasp of air, Q shifted a bit further onto his side, fingers closing on his belly weakly and failing to hold back a whimper at the dead, heavy feeling he couldn’t shake.

“Hey there quartermaster.” With a violent sniff to identify the intruder and mind shocking into panic Q lurched back from the voice and opened his eyes wide.

006 was sitting there, looking apologetic and solemn, worried, hands raised in peace.

“Sorry Q, thought you’d smelt me.” He seemed it too. Q took a moment to breathe, moving even that small amount had left him both more awake and uncomfortably nauseous.

“No,” Q managed, settling down again cautiously. His whole body seemed to loose its ability to hold tension in a single breath, sending him slumping into the pillow for a long while, only coming around a few minutes later to the feeling of Alec’s hand rubbing his hair in a massage. Q opened his eyes tiredly.

“You keep fighting, you hear me, mad thing.” Meeting Alec’s eyes in the gloom he could pick up the worry and care, though it was still taking him a while to process words. “Don’t worry about James, I’m getting him out and sorted for a bit. Hopefully a decent sleep, definitely a shower, maybe a meal. So you just rest, Q. I’ll take care of him.” Gradually the words made sense, enough to understand what Alec was telling him.

“I’ll bring him back to you in good shape. So just don’t give up yet, this bit’s always the roughest, but you’ll pull through.” Alec’s greenish eyes turned to look at the door for a moment as if hearing something before turning back to Q and squeezing his shoulder. “You alright with this brother of yours?”

Instead of answering the question, which he honestly didn’t feel up to, even if he knew which complicated brother Alec was referring to, Q met the blonde’s eyes with some displaced feeling he couldn’t focus on.

“Look after him?” Q’s faint slur of a request had Alec’s face pulling some expression he was too tired to name.

“Yeah, I will.” The agent affirmed, gruffly but softly, and Q closed his eyes in acceptance with a long breath. “Feel better, alright?” Alec finished with, Q slit his eyes open enough to see the man lean down as if to kiss him somewhere platonic, but settled for a brief cheek-to-cheek instead, muttering into his ear.

“Get better dove.” With that he was slipping away and gone, leaving Q to his maudlin thoughts and briefly wondering where along the line he’d earned an endearment from 006.

He was alone and staring blankly at the greyish wall for long seconds until a familiar weighty presence and scent met him.

“Hello Aster.”

 

-00Q00-

 

Alec had the decency to take James back to the flat in a car rather than on some blasted motorbike, and used the plastering rain as an excuse to give James a long time to drink himself fuzzy.

The alpha timed it perfectly so that they got to the flat just before James could bypass pleasantly detached and head into morose.

They ate something, James wasn’t sure what, it tasted of nothing, and seeing their innocent flat the same as they had left it caused James some more surreal grief. Blasty’s growth chart went un-updated for the time Q had been in the hospital, and it seemed like such an awful sign that he wanted to burn it.

Instead, Alec watching him like he was ready to jump in at any minute, James carefully traced the line, determined that he would keep the faith, even if Q couldn’t.

“Alright, come on, shower, bed.” Alec ordered, and turned James around to guide him into the shower.

Despite everything, the shower did feel good, helping him drift closer to sleep. He dried off, accidentally or subconsciously using Q’s towel in the process. The much happier, calmer scent of his omega residing there formed a numbing blanket of comfort in his mind, covering up the horror and stress of the last few days.

He wanted nothing more than to bury his nose in Q’s neck. But Alec would never let him out of here, and Q wouldn’t smell the way James wanted, needed him to. The least he could do was get some rest so that one of them could hold up the other. Feeling a guilty knot in his stomach at wanting Q to be better for him, James left the bathroom and sunk into their bed.

Q’s side smelt like home.

 

-00Q00-

 

Moving his eyes from the blank patch of wall to his brother was a bit of a struggle. Mycroft looked down at him with calmly furious and sorrowful eyes as he sat.

“Watch your eyes.” The man warned, and reached for the lamp on the table by Q’s head. Closing his eyes, and expecting to feel stinging brightness, Q was surprised when the ambient onslaught of light was merely golden and not blinding.

“All right now.” Mycroft informed, and Q risked sluggishly peeling his eyes open, met by the sight of his brother’s hand an inch over his face, shielding him from the very low glare.

“There you are.” The quiet, gentle tone was almost out of his memories as Mycroft’s other hand moved to stroke his face. Q met the old-looking brown eyes for a moment, slightly fuzzy without his glasses, felt a flood of emotions and thoughts that were quickly obscured by that same numb blanket of fatigue.

“How are we?” Mycroft asked as Q looked away, closing his eyes.

“Tired.” It had gotten him off the hook only once, but it was worth a shot.

“I’m sure.” Mycroft replied gently, not allowing the deflection but acknowledging Q’s state at the same time. “Do you need anything else?” Mycroft could mean anything from water to murder to brainteasers. Q meant to shake his head, but unconsciously closed his fingers around his belly and swallowed instead, dragging in a shaking breath.

“Star?” Mycroft prompted, hand skimming down to rub Q’s back. Q opened damp eyes and blinked rapidly, looking past his brother at the lamp, shadows on the wall, anything.

“I can’t feel it, anything.” He managed in a shaky mutter, enunciating forcefully just to get the words out. Mycroft’s demeanour changed to something shocked, quietly aghast and sorrowful.

“You were feeling movement?” He asked, not expecting the answer, and the man’s spare hand reached to stroke his stomach, slowly, repetitively. Q’s face scrunched up as he tried to move away slightly, uncomfortable with the lack of anything he felt.

“Hush Star.” Mycroft murmured, maintaining his gentle movements. Q might as well have been fifteen again, out of his mind with heat and being held together by just a few words and acts of kindness from his brothers.

Even now, he couldn’t bring himself to cope. Closing his eyes in unbearable thoughts of failure and grief Q turned his head into the pillow and just tried to focus on breathing. In and out. Just survive. It was probably important he survived, even if it was hard to remember why.

He didn’t want James to suffer, that was why. And whatever, if anything, were alive in him would probably appreciate it too.

Even if at best right now he felt like an incubator for some deformed and damaged soon to die life, at worst a shell for something already dead and not gone but rotting inside him.

Q just clenched his hands and tried to breathe, to not let it get out, how badly he was coping, how he couldn’t quite attach himself to the reality everyone was talking about; that they were both fine. He couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t feel it.

First and foremost Q had always been a scientist. He’d never believed what wasn’t before his eyes. Even if he trusted James, how could it be possible that something he’d felt living inside him so vibrantly could be silent so completely, and yet still apparently healthy?

God he’d killed his own child!

“Aster, breathe-“ The noise that escaped him was wretched and half animalistic; he was tense, teeth clenched, his body shaking. This was agony; surely he couldn’t survive through this?

“Hush, my little Star.” It was all horribly too much. Q jerked until he’d twisted slightly out of his brother’s hold, pressing himself into the pillow, muffling his hitched breath there. They could say what they liked, all of them, even James. But Q had been an idiot the day he thought it was okay to give this a try, to think he could manage something like this.

Even if he wasn’t at fault, he’d agreed to bring a new life into this world just to have it hurt and suffer for his attempt.

Mycroft’s hand resettled on his lower back, a calm weight of presence. Unable to shake it off, Q tried to ignore it while he hid the worst of his depression and cried.

He didn’t know how long it lasted, but when he was shallowly breathing and staring fixedly at the wall with lidded eyes a while later, Mycroft’s hand was still resting there.

Time ticked by in its specific manner with Q unable to latch onto thought, focusing on the sound of rain on the window instead.

“I was wondering when you’d show up.” Sherlock’s voice was just enough of a surprise to make him blink, hearing Mycroft shift, though the protective hand never left his back.

“I was coming to see you imminently Sherly, could you not wait your turn?”

“You’ve been pestering me for months and now you want to kick me out?” Sherlock’s hand flickered into his field of vision and pushed into Q’s hair, brushing it out of his eyes. Q closed them. He couldn’t deal with both of them. Not at once. Not for the first time in years.

And wasn’t this the same as last time? When he’d been in the MI6 explosion and briefly concussed in the hospital, in a fair amount of bodily pain before the doctors pumped him full of drugs to keep him upright and doing his job.

The silence dragged on for a few minutes… no, not silence, just conversation Q’s mind was blanking out to protect him, focusing instead on the white noise of rain. His opening eyes ignored the shadows of gesticulation on the wall for pretty patterns, mind thinking of gun shapes and swirling data miasmas and then not much of anything.

Until he became aware that the movement and conversation had stilled and stopped, some time ago, and someone’s hand was squeezing gently on his shoulder.

“Aster, are you gone?” Slowly his eyes tracked over, up the arm on his shoulder and towards Sherlock’s piercing gaze. “That’s a yes.” The beta said, and was pushing by Mycroft to get close to Q’s head, bending down and taking the omega’s face between his two hands.

“Come back here,” Sherlock’s muttered words flitted against the barrier in his head. “It’s not so bad as you believe.” Q blinked, he could understand, he wasn’t dissociating anymore, but he still didn’t want to deal with this. He wished he were still dissociating. He let his eyes fall away, closing them, turning back to the pillow. Even the touch he used to crave was now just serving as a reminder of pain.

Sherlock cursed, shifted around, started making some violent noises and demanding Mycroft help.

“Hmm, might work.” Commented the alpha, and Q felt himself being gently freed of the blankets and sheets on him.

“Come on Aster, carefully now.” Mycroft’s hands were shifting him and Q had to gasp at a flare of pain from his back. Another set of hands caught and helped from the other side, moving him up the bed, propping him up on his back on pillows. After so long in a sedentary position Q’s brain struggled to cope with the movement, leaving him dizzy and clinging to the bed for stability.

“Easy Star.” Mycroft soothed, and pulled a blanket over Q’s legs before easing away the flimsy hospital gown to over his stomach. He didn’t like whatever stupid game they were playing and tried slapping them away tiredly, wanting to roll over.

Mycroft stopped him by simply sitting on the bed next to him, forcing him to roll into the alpha to escape into his previous position. Growling with an aggrieved whine of frustration Q slowly attempted to role the other way, only to get blocked by Sherlock as he somehow managed to squish onto the bed as well.

Trapped and miserable Q’s elbows fought them both briefly before he was soundly shushed and contained from both sides by multiple wrapping arms. Sherlock pressed his glasses on messily and Q leaned his head back and tried to ignore whatever unhinged scheme they were planning until it was over. That was until cool slick gel was poured over his stomach and made him start.

“Ngh _what_?” Q complained in a feeble voice, squirming ineffectively and becoming further ensconced in Mycroft’s slightly squishy areas and embrace for his troubles, Sherlock’s bony litheness poking in at his other side. Face smooshed into his oldest brother’s shoulder, Q whined at the weirdness of it all and opened his eyes to see Sherlock turning on a familiar machine and proceeding to lean back and press a wand over the gel under Q’s belly button.

Dread filled him alongside desperate need to know, and with a shuddering squirm Q fought to escape the ministrations, petrified of what he would see. He was shushed firmly on both sides and held still and panting a little as Sherlock pulled the monitor close enough to fiddle with whilst still reclining beside Q.

“You sure you can work this machine?” Mycroft asked dubiously.

“Of course I can. I read about them the instant I found out, practiced in the morgue-“ Mycroft cleared his throat pointedly at the mention of death and Q fought down both the need to bite the pair of them and burst into insane hysterics.

“It’s harder to focus in living bodies.” The beta continued regardless. “Hmm, lets try this-“ He clicked something, and the familiar warped sound of heartbeat filled the room.

Slightly slower than what Q was used to, though not by much. Eyes pinched shut and his own heart rate beeping a bit faster, Q gasped and tensed at the sound, starting to shake.

“Should be able to, aha! Picture.” Despite himself, when silence reigned, Q opened his eyes, fearing what it meant.

There was Blasty, on his back, Q could recognise the shifting beats of the little black heart from his last ultrasound, and the pup was bigger, a bit fatter, and longer in the limbs… Breathing hard, Q’s eyes scanned frantically over the image, feeling too many things to focus on just one.

There were none of the acrobatic twists he remembered. But, there was movement. Very slight, easy to miss as movement of the wand, little flexes of limbs, slow sucking and swallowing motion…

It didn’t prove anything, not that Blasty was okay, not that something wouldn’t go wrong, not that Q hadn’t nearly lost the pup. It didn’t change that he was still terrified, nauseous, depressed and stressed to the point of exhaustion form the factory memories. Didn’t stop him feeling tired to the point of collapse or ready to cry at an instant. His hormones were still out of control, his brain was still trying to blanket him from the shock and horror, he still felt vulnerable and powerless and helplessly nervously scared.

But, not gone, maybe damaged, maybe scarred, but their pup was still inside him. He wasn’t empty, though still heavier than he’d ever felt with muted life, but Blasty was hanging in there.

That was all Q could see it as.

But maybe that was enough. Maybe Q could manage to keep hanging on as well.

He hoped that was enough. It had to be. He couldn’t manage anything more than that, not for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was very long, so I shall attempt not to ramble, but I hope you guys enjoyed, and you should probably be prepared for quite serious chapters for the next couple. I don't believe in the magical wand of waving healing, so these babies are just gonna have to tough it out and recover like humans. So be prepared for that, but there will be fluff where I can manage it...like with the bro-smoosh at the end there...which was just too irresistible x3
> 
> In other, happy(!) tidings...I have a job! Starting in a couple of weeks, woo *dances*  
> This also means I'm moving -a little freaky O.o- (the worst bit will be attempting sociality to the room mates *shudder* I want to go write 00Q!!!) so I have a few things to sort out, etc. But I shall dearly try to keep to at least weekly updates, though when I start I'm not sure if that can be maintained for the first week.  
> Anyway! Animals here I come!
> 
> I hope you enjoyed, and thank you endlessly for reading, this story has brought me a helluva lot of joy, and you guys are a huge part of that, so thank you for taking the time n_n


	27. H0: Simple ways to improve your mood; H1: Bond's recovery itinerary attack plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this took so long guys! I've pretty much got the next chapter written, I wanted to wait to finish it, but I thought I'd hive you this one anyway, even if it isn't the most exciting one!
> 
> I'm so tired from moving/new job that I can barely muster the strength to html italicise 'xD hopefully I got it all...
> 
> Either way please enjoy, and apologies for the wait.

Alec had kipped on the sofa, forced a large cooked breakfast down James and then been called in to MI6 by a rather irate phone call demanding he finish his paper work and explain why it took him three extra days to return home post-mission.

“Damn it if they aren’t getting bloody complacent without you out there, spending months in some backend rainforest somewhere. The rest of us can’t even have a long weekend!” Alec complained.

They’d parted ways shortly after that, Alec deciding that after he had satisfied MI6 and settled in his own flat he’d visit Q later in the week, or unless he could smell James from Vauxhall Cross again.

A good night spent nearly unconscious in an actual bed and a couple of meals later, James returned to the hospital feeling anxious in his need to see Q, who he hadn’t meant to leave unattended all night, but a lot more stable.

Q just needed time, Blasty too, and James could be there to make sure they got rest and recuperation. It might be all he could do, and Q might still be struggling for who knows how long, but James wouldn’t give up or fail them. He would move heaven and earth to just keep Q getting better.

He had to believe it would happen, that whatever state of mind Q was in could be recovered from.

Armed with some clothes for himself and for Q, along with some other eccentricities, James felt a bit more prepared for his mate’s bedside. Upon his, much cleaner, arrival into the secure ward of the hospital that housed Q’s room, he reflected that Q might feel better for a wash too if the nurses allowed James to give him a sponge bath.

Slightly more satisfied now that he had a plan of action, James opened the door to Q’s room, and was assaulted by the sight of Watson _giggling_ in an appalling attempt to keep quiet, taking picture after picture on his phone of the bed.

Feeling a moment of utterly bewildered rage and betrayal form the man he’d come to see somewhat as a friend, James turned to the bed to defend Q only to nearly fall over at the sight.

Q was sandwiched and squished between his two brothers, who had somehow miraculously managed to both fit on the bed with the omega. Together the three of them looked like the world’s worst sleeping nightmare.

Mycroft appeared to have managed to get both his younger brother’s heads in a lock-type hold and was squishing them close. Sherlock appeared utterly disgruntled by this possessive and slightly smothering hold and looked as if he was trying to escape the bed and take Q with him, arms wrapped tightly around the youngest Holmes’ chest and abdomen, holding him away slightly from Mycroft, one leg thrown over the lot of them to push at the alpha’s shin.

In the middle Q had latched his arms and hands onto his oldest brother even whilst tightly snugged back into Sherlock’s embrace. His long fingers seemed with determined and petulant contentment to be intent on pudging into some sort of well-hidden soft areas of podge on the oldest Holmes. His legs were akimbo and confused in the tangle, Mycroft’s somehow remaining perfectly neatly crossed at the ankles yet trapping one of Q’s in between them. Finally the alpha’s free hand was resting on top of Q’s belly nearly brushing Sherlock’s.

The less said about the thin hospital garment and tangled sheet barely covering Q the better, and the smears of ultrasound gel and lurking machine somehow fell to the wayside of weird amidst the utter mind-numbing hilarity and shock of the scene.

“This is sooo going on the blog.” John drew out, fighting to keep his laugh inside. “Or maybe Scotland Yard. I could be rich in blackmail money!”

James strolled closer, eyed up the rather good photos, Q’s smooshed face in between Sherlock’s indignantly outraged one –even in sleep- and Mycroft’s seemingly eternal smug expression.

“Can I get a copy of that?” He asked, mouth turning up in a smile.

It goes to show, that if you didn’t pile enough when a puppy, it came back to bite you in the arse.

 

-00Q00-

 

Sherlock had leapt off Q’s bed as if burned, though he kept a possessive and secure arm around Q’s vulnerable stomach. Mycroft untangled himself much more sophisticatedly at the surprised movement, also resting a hand on Q, who was struggling to wake amidst the momentary chaos.

“John, why are you laughing?” The doctor snorted and squeezed Q’s ankle with a brief ‘see you later’ before sauntering out of the room. “If there are pictures…!” Sherlock accused, following his fellow beta like a whirlwind. Mycroft bent and nuzzled Q, sighing disparagingly.

The omega didn’t exactly respond, but he allowed the contact well enough.

“I’ll come back soon, Star.” The man drew back with a breath. “Just after I’ve prevented our brother from breaking yet another international news event.” With that, and a nod to James, the alpha left to calm Hurricane Sherlock.

James sidled closer in the quiet, drawing up the blinds in the room to reveal London’s typically weak autumn sunlight, and went over to the bed. He smiled slightly at Q, who met his eyes with the growing familiar blank-bland-lost-uneasy expression. Sliding his hand into Q’s James sat beside him in the chair, leant close, chin propped on the bed near his mate’s head.

“Are you okay?” He queried, slightly worried at what effect the full Holmes experience might have had on his Q. Not to mention the ominous presence of the ultrasound machine.

Q hummed a bit, a non-committal kind of noise, and nudged his head closer to James’. The alpha took the initiative to press their foreheads together, meeting his mate’s hazel-blue-grey eyes and wondering where all the green had gone.

“Are you in any pain?” James asked after the silence had covered a few minutes, not uncomfortable, but a bit unnerving. He really didn’t know what was going on in Q’s head. His thumb kept stroking circles onto the slightly more prominently boned back of Q’s hand.

And that wasn’t a good thing. Q shouldn’t be loosing weight surely, although the omega struggled to keep it on at the best of times. He’d see about trying Q on some food today, maybe after his planned attempt at sponge bathing.

“No.” Q answered, voice better than the day before, less tormented, but not very emotive either.

_He’s trying_. James reminded himself. _He’s recovering and it’s a struggle, of course it is._

Blue eyes cast down the bed and frowned at the sight of the cool gel lingering on the expanse of Q’s belly bared to the cold. Feeling the strong desire to wrap his mate up James reached for some tissues.

“Here, let me get that.” He murmured, and Q watched him carefully and slowly clean all trace of gel from the swelling stomach and the sheet.

Chucking the tissues into the bin, James turned back to Q, reaching his free arm around to brush back Q’s hair.

“How are you feeling?” The need for Q to talk was almost painful, desperate, but James fought to keep his voice calm. Q took a little breath, blinking. After a moment he frowned, closed his eyes and nudged both further into James and the pillow, mumbling something the alpha could just make out.

“I don’t want to feel anything.”

“Love…” Q took a breath and met his eyes again.

“I can’t feel what I want, so it only hurts when I try.” The strangled notes in Q’s barely-keeping-calm voice snared in James’ chest like fishhooks.

“Just because it hurts, is it really better to give up on everything?” James asked, voice low, saddened. He knew he’d felt that way plenty of times in life after his anger drained out. He’d spent three months on an island after being shot off a bridge living life like that. If it could be called living. Q was shaking as he looked at James.

“I don’t know what else to do.” The words were forced out as Q watched him, eyes flicking between James’. If he was searching for answers, James didn’t have any. With every bone he wished he did.

“Did you see?” James asked, Q’s eyes flickered over to the ultrasound, understanding James’ question, and nodded jerkily.

“But still-“ his voice caught, choked. “I can’t, if I think about it, w-without f-feeling anything I c-can’t-“

“Okay, easy,” James soothed, bringing his hand to Q’s head to turn him away from the machine, making their eyes meet, massaging behind the omega’s ear into his hair to calm him down, focus him. “Easy love.” Slowly Q relaxed minutely.

“Do you believe Rumbles is alive?” Q’s half blink and slight head-cock, along with relaxing tension, let James know he had caught his mate by surprise.

“Rumbles?” James huffed an uneasy laugh, and felt a shot of terror that Q might react badly to the slip, to the cause of the name.

“To me Blasty feels like a lot of rumbling, it just sort of slipped out.” Q’s eyes closed slowly and opened to look at him with such a heartbroken expression that the alpha wanted to kick himself for mentioning the name, the fact that their pup used to move.

“Oh James,” Q said instead, near-whispered and agonised. James started a bit when Q’s hand slid up to the back of his neck and brought them close together. The soft and weak kiss to his cheek was entirely unexpected.

“I’m sorry, It’s not easy to explain but this is not me giving up, I’m not giving up, I could never-“ Q caught himself from some vow of undying devotion to their bond or their baby, likely because he would be forced to feel something if he continued. When his eyes did open, James thumbed Q’s temple and waited with the most attentive expression he could provide, hoping to understand his struggling mate.

“I just, its what I need to do to survive. If I’m too… present, then I’ll panic, and I won’t cope, and I know that because this has happened before… I just need to,” Q scrunched up his eyes in concentration with a breath, frowning, trying to find a circumstance that could be vaguely understood. “Step back. So that I can see all the computer screens, without being blinded by the glare of just one of them…” Hopeful eyes opened in Q’s otherwise shattered expression. “Can you understand that?”

Poor bloody Q. James breathed in and out slowly. He could understand. He’d maybe never gone to the lengths Q’s mind had of self containment and dissociation, but in smaller ways he could understand the problem.

It just had to be something like pushing past the pain, or taking a breath before a shot, or waiting in the shadows to observe a room at large.

As long as it was a coping mechanism, and not an escape tactic, then that was okay.

“Yes, I can understand that.” Q’s relief was nearly palpable and his whole body sagged towards James. That alone convinced him he’d said the right thing, that instinctual move forwards rather than back. But there was something that twisted his guts. James ran his hands over Q to gather the fraying attention back.

“Will you respond to me?” His voice was terribly, transparently pleading. He couldn’t live if Q was trapped in the coffin of his own mind and refused to move, speak, function.

“I’ll respond to you. I can hear you, I haven’t blocked you out… I don’t know how responsive I will be…” James nodded, slightly relieved even if Q sounded a bit worried at the end there.

If it was like Q’s disastrous mate-call heat, where he’d been dull-eyed and diminished, but still there, then he could cope. Q had recovered from that after all, his last dissociative attempt, as far as James could work out.

Everyone had their own methods of coping with horror, stress, torment. James ran into the nearest bottle and delved deep into his misery. Indulging his depression and bodily desires without joy or enthusiasm until eventually he’d gotten fed up with being maudlin.

This was what Q needed, to detach, to not have to cope with all the things he couldn’t, to separate himself from harm in order to function.

It was incredibly vulnerable and apparently tentative given the mood swings of the last few days. And maybe Q had been better at it as a child when he practiced it every day, or maybe he’d grown out of it, or maybe just learned he could lessen the scale of dissociation and still recover in peace. Either way, James would protect him, and their pup, and take care of them whilst Q recovered.

James was no stranger to depression and coping mechanisms. And as long as Q was letting him in, then that was pretty much as good as it got. He wouldn’t let that trust down, and he wouldn’t let Q fall.

“I love you.” James murmured, at a loss for anything better to say. Q didn’t quite manage to smile, but his eyes softened a bit, focused a bit, and he nosed James slightly.

“Love you too.”

 

-00Q00-

 

Being dissociative around James felt almost exactly the same as in childhood, but with the added addition of having a mind-guard, or a safety blanket. James was capable of immense patience and of entertaining himself, which was useful when Q could stare at he wall for long stretches of time without really thinking anything.

He was vaguely aware of his mate’s movements and scent. And if James asked him something, even if it took a couple of tries to fully come round, he responded as best he could whilst not really being aware of too much.

James seemed to be guarding him with an intense focus, and Q could see why when he could muster the presence of mind to think about it from the Alpha’s point of view. He was even immensely thankful for it. And gradually, gradually, James’ presence seeped into his mind as a rock in the ocean. A steady peripheral fact that he could rely on.

The numb blur of hospital carried on around Q and he ignored it. Patterns in his head ranging from bombs to nests, and most of the time a deep state of blankness that allowed Q to drop into peace.

He was disturbed slightly in the afternoon by James gently rubbing his shoulder. Q took a moment to blink and look up.

“I meant to ask this morning, do you think you’d like to wash?” James looked so earnestly hopeful. Q was still attempting to keep his wits about him when it came to James: a needed alpha was a happy alpha. Plus, Q was sure that he smelt appalling, it was a wonder that even his mate could bear to be in the same room as him.

“Okay.” James smiled in something like relief, and that alone made the dangerous trip towards feelings more worth it.

“The doctors said that if you’re feeling up to it, I could help you into the bathroom and they can detach you, but if you prefer than I can bring some warm water in here.” Q frowned, fingers pawing a little at his belly.

“Is it safe?”

“You don’t have to Q, but a short walk is just fine, there’s even a bench in there to sit on, but only if you’re feeling up to it.” Q debated his sudden itching desire to feel clean against the fact that he hadn’t done more than roll over and thrash in four days, and that bed rest was doctor’s orders.

“I don’t know.” James pondered for a moment, idly examining the sheets, they could probably do with a wash too.

“I could carry you, if you want?” He suggested. Q seemed to spend an inordinate amount of time in James’ arms since they’d mated, and even before, so that didn’t bother him too much… besides, the thought of prolonged movement left him a little sick. “It might help your recovery, and the bedding could be changed, and you might feel better, and Dr. Darcy should be coming by later-“ Clearly James wanted him to wash, or to be able to help Q in this way. The alpha had now listed so many reasons –and was idly suggesting more whilst Q watched- that it would be harsh to put him down.

“Okay, but slowly?” James nodded, and kissed his head.

“I’ll go get a nurse to untangle you.”

Q waited, slipped back into dullness until a nurse began faffing around him, unhooking the monitors and removing the catheter, which was not pleasant.

“You might not need this back in dear if you’re up and moving, I’ll check with your doctors.” Q moved when prompted but otherwise didn’t react towards her painful perkiness. Soon enough she was done and James replaced her in his field of vision.

“Ready?” Q nodded and tentatively removed his hands from his stomach to reach around James’ neck and hold onto his shoulders.

True to his word, James eased Q up slowly and with only a dull aching of muscles and bruises.

Moving reminded Q of his belly weight, which still felt strange without the movement within, and buried his head in James’ neck. By the time he came round he was airborne and they were in the bathroom, James’ voice questioning him softly.

“Hm?” Q asked, focusing a bit in the fuzz and looking up.

“I’m putting you down okay, let me know if something hurts.” Nothing did, really, although he felt a bit achy and shaky all over, and ridiculously feeble. The plastic bench was cold and the room was drab. Q felt exposed in it and feeble.

“M-may I have my glasses?” Q requested quietly, looking down at the blurry image of his legs and seeing them not quite the colour he remembered.

“Yes,” James began carefully, “but you’ve got some nasty bruises, okay.” They both knew Q was no fainting dame, and it might have annoyed Q if he couldn’t see both the sense in James’ caution or had the energy to care. He just nodded, fingers lightly clutching the bench for support, and James fetched the spectacles.

They were meticulously clean, which was nice, and James shut the door behind him for privacy, leaving just the two of them in gentle lighting. The place was decked out like a wet room, with the shower area separated by some low wall with a big gap and plenty of railings, there was a drain, showerhead, and what Q strongly and distastefully assumed would be anti-everything-including-smell soap. He never felt quite clean without some sort of scent getting involved; preferably James’ body wash if his own wasn’t on hand. And to be fair they simply shared most of the time anyway.

It made Q long to be home, in his lovely bathroom, with his towels and temperature settings and mood lighting for when he had a migraine. Or in their new bathroom, which was huge and windowed and just waiting to be tampered with.

“Well, it’s not exactly the Savoy is it.” Q commented dryly. James laughed, surprised.

“Its just for now, soon we’ll have a new bathroom to ensconce you in, here.” James’ fuzzy form, something that it had taken Q a while to get comfortable with without pinpoint vision, moved to carefully slip on his mate’s glasses.

Blinking a few times to adjust to 20-20 vision, Q took a breath and looked down. His legs, which Q had used to defend himself from the worst of the beatings, were covered with nasty pipe-shaped clouds of dark angry colours from knee to ankle, and along the sides of his thighs. The sight of the swollen appendages made him draw breath and quickly move on.

Q’s wrists were thickly bandaged; probably a blessing, and his arms were mottled with bruises too. He imagined his back was much the same.

He had to close his eyes to get back away from the reality of his injuries. Ones he had been mercifully unaware of the extent of up till now thanks to the painkillers he was on.

“What are the doctors saying?” Q asked, keeping his voice low and steady with difficulty, he felt James steady and present next to him.

“You’re undamaged,” Q’s faint little noise of almost hysteric sarcasm seemed to belay how well he was coping. “But it’s going to be a while before you’re back to full mobility, at least in terms of stability and energy… The wrists might take longer, your arm strength too, and some of the muscles in your back. You’ll have to wear wrist supports once the bandages are off.” Appreciating the blunt honesty Q nodded and took a sharp breath.

He could deal with this. He could. James dealt with worse on an almost weekly basis not so long ago, and the beating may have been painful, but if the bruises were flesh-deep rather than bone then it was okay. Small price to pay really for his life, not to mention his pup’s. As for his wrists, arms, well, Q had more or less accepted that he was screwed on that front at the time.

“What about my work?” Q managed, voice clipped if edged with stress.

“Q,” James began gently, awkwardly shifting beside him. The omega found himself tensing a little. “You wont be going back to work for a few weeks.”

It was that, more than anything, which broke through and caught his throat. Without his work, how could he get through this? How could he distract himself?

Immediately Q felt a wave of embarrassment and shame at his naivety roil through him. Of course he wouldn’t be able to go back to work like this. What an idiot. There was no way MI6 would let him near anything like a secure server or high pressure situation when he was not only physically but now mentally compromised. Why even let him serve out the rest of the time before his maternity leave?

God he was an idiot.

“Right, no of course.” Q mumbled, attempting to sound professional and likely failing. His body ached, his head hurt, he was cold and shaking and weak and had honestly never felt more pathetic than sat here in this stupid excuse for a bathroom with his stupid bloody mental problems.

Oh God he couldn’t cope.

“Its not permanent Q.” His breath hitched out in a horrible clenched sob of a laugh. He hated this feeling, being out of control of his mind, it was unbearable.

“Even this feeling, it won’t last forever.”

“But I need it to stop now.” Q demanded, childishly, feeling ridiculous and helpless to his own anxiety. Sucking in a deep, shuddering and hysterical sounding breath Q looked away, bit his lips, tried to keep from breaking down.

“Okay, okay I know.” James assured, and clambered over the wall until he could sit next to Q. Warm arms wrapped around him and eased their bodies together. James remained silent as he let Q struggle himself back under control.

Eventually, the tumult had died down somewhat.

“I know it’ll get better. It always does.” Q started, voice quiet and a bit shaky. “Each time it takes a little less time, really.” True he’d never had this happen before, thank god, but Q was well acquainted with his mind enough by now to recognise when an outside symptom was triggering a lurking fiend. “The first bit just always really sucks.” The last word broke his voice, and James turned his chin to rest on Q’s head.

“You’re not wrong.” Came the remark with feeling. And of course James knew.

And, well, that was it, wasn’t it. James knew what he was going through, sort of, or at least understood the struggles of his own mind.

Not only would James not judge him or label him for this, but practically all the double oh’s had ‘issues’. In fact, practically all of his branch did, too. Moneypenny certainly had a couple of big ones. Q knew because they had talked about them.

It was just as Alec had been suggesting all those long weeks ago; MI6 wasn’t against him, it wasn’t segregation due to perceived weakness.

It was the amount of time they would give any agent off for any trauma of this variety. And though Q hated the word ‘traumatised’, he had to admit that right now, he could not function as the quartermaster, barely as a human.

And it wasn’t a slight against him personally. It was, as he’d talked with Alec about, simply humanity. A certain amount of time to recover, _necessary_ time, _standard_ time.

It didn’t particularly make it easier to deal with his horrible emotions and hormones and anxieties and depression, but it did somewhat make it easier to bear.

Swallowing, Q managed to get himself back under control, back into his state of need-enforced calm detachment and low-energy responses.

“Can you help me get this off?” Q asked quietly, hoping that James understood the question as the gratitude it was, the trust.

“Of course.” James responded calmly, relaxed, and set about undoing the silly little strings that held up the wretched garment. Q kept his gaze on his feet, but absent mindedly stroked James’ closest knee with the tips of his fingers, relaying a connection circuit of solidarity. The careful and confident brush of fingers along his neck and back let him know that James was okay, was with him, wasn’t ready to bolt just yet.

“Alright, good riddance, blasted thing, sea foam was never your colour. Never get a cardigan in it.” Q couldn’t quite laugh, but he squeezed James’ knee and nodded.

“I promise.”

“Good.” James paused a moment, and then ducked to kiss Q’s cheek briefly, as if not wanting to push too much. Q turned so that their cheeks rubbed, stayed like that for a while, contentedly, just letting the feeling of James’ skin calm him. After a long while he withdrew, and thought that his poor mate had probably tolerated enough of his body odour and melodrama for one day.

“Okay, I’d like to be clean now.” He murmured. 

“Good plan,” James nodded and stood smoothly. “Here, hold on to me. We’ll get that shirt off completely and into a bin.”

Q nodded in agreement, and rose his arms to James’ waiting ones, letting himself be eased up briefly and then set back down minus the shirt. Good riddance indeed.

“When we’re done, I’m putting you in pyjamas. I brought some of yours from home.”

Q was nearly overdone by the sentiment, more touched than he could express, and squeezed James’ hand tight as he could in thanks before letting the man get to work fixing the shower.

The feel of the water was heavenly, and allowed the tension to seep out of Q’s bones as he removed his glasses, feeling drowsiness and some longed for calm overtake him again.

 

-00Q00-

 

James had taken great pleasure in washing Q, and had taken a great time to do it. He was still somewhat nervous of touching Q too much, or too hard, given the state of mind his omega was in. Not to mention his battered body.

Q seemed to respond well to touch however, so long as James didn’t smother him with it. The alpha suspected that any touch his mate registered as demanding too much complex response threatened to force him to feel too much.

However, James made sure to clean indiscriminately, other than spending a long time on the snarled locks of Q’s hair, which seemed even thicker than usual in pregnancy, the man took no longer or shorter amount of time in the rest of his careful cleaning.

Maybe Q didn’t want others touching his belly too much, but James paid it as much attention as he did any other part, no more or less. He hoped this might desensitize Q a bit, but he had no way of knowing.

Q’s stomach was distinctly becoming round now, and it was really a very satisfying curve to stroke. It was also, impressively, the only area of Q’s body completely devoid of any bruising. Despite how the omega felt, the success of his protection for their unborn pup was clear as day to an onlooker.

The myriad of black-red-purple-blue bruises marring Q’s pale skin and leaving him with some swollen areas were painful to see in such a visceral was that James was biting back growls as he carefully washed down Q’s back and legs. There was no doubt walking would be painful for a while, and the sheer amount was horrendous.

Q’s arms were still weak from supporting all of his body weight, back and chest muscles stressed. The doctors didn’t think recovery would be too strenuous despite the pregnancy, but they also weren’t setting a time limit, which led James to believe that this was very much down to personal recovery time.

To be honest, James didn’t know if he could take Q struggling for another two months as he had after his horrific heat incident. Not the least because in two months time Q would be heading towards 30 weeks pregnant. James wanted him healthy and happy, not hollow and helpless.

But it shouldn’t be nearly as long, hopefully. The bruising would be painful and ache, and Q would struggle with recovering his strength and tiring quickly, but it was largely superficial.

Really, it would be their pup’s recovery that probably healed Q quickest. And right now they were so linked in this vicious cycle.

Any stress Q felt would reflect in his pup, and of course Q was in a hugely stressful situation.

Still, for now, Q was relaxed under the water and gentle sweep of hands over him and cloth. James’ goal for the next few days and weeks was clear: repeat this feeling for Q as often and for as long as he could.

With the shower over, the clinical room now pleasantly warm, James took care drying Q, attempting not to touch the man’s heavily bandaged wrists. There was even a hairdryer to use on his sleepy mate’s hair. Q usually didn’t bother with them, but James wasn’t about to risk a cold, and so carefully dried and combed fingers through the dark hair until it was a somewhat tamed fluff of curls.

James smiled at the endearing effect of Q blinking owlishly from behind glasses and his careless hair.

“Teeth?” James questioned with a grin, and Q nodded, running a distasteful tongue around his no doubt fuzzy teeth.

Minty fresh and squeaky clean, James bundled Q up in a large t-shirt, one of James’ old ones that had been softened with age, and a pair of flannel pyjama bottoms.

“All done.” Q’s eyes fluttered sleepily. “Feel up to the walk back?” Q’s hands strayed to his belly, before taking a breath and glancing up with his sleep-dull and quiet eyes. “Help me?” He asked tiredly, and James was only too happy to assist.

Q needed to lean on him heavily, one arm around James’ neck and the other on the wall. The alpha reciprocated with hands carefully supportive under Q’s arms, not wanting to put any pressure on Q’s stomach and disappeared waistline, though he did shift an arm down to support the small of Q’s back in an un-bruised area.

It took a long time to stumble back to the entirely clean bed, and Q was starting to shake a little at the end of it. James got him safely into bed and wrapped up just before Q dropped off to sleep on his side. He pressed a kiss to Q’s lips and went to ask the doctors whether Q could try eating later, and to leave a message for Dr. Darcy that Q would probably sleep for the most of the day again and to come by in the morning.

Satisfied with his plan, James set about his work, preferring to keep busy, and feeling grateful that Q was giving a good attempt at feeling better and taking baby steps. He could work with that, and that way all the sooner get Q back home.

That night, the doctors agreed to try Q on tapioca pudding, easy to eat and rich in protein and carbohydrate. Just what the omega needed to keep his weight up, whilst still remaining on nutrients for a few days.

“Frog spawn.” Q commented idly when presented by it, a slight smile on his lips that was gone in an instant. James could remember thinking the same thing of the stuff at school. But thankfully Q could stomach the small amount without a problem, and promptly fell asleep again. James was taking note of how his omega was constantly keeping a hand or hands on his belly when a quiet knock sounded at the door and Dr. Darcy poked his head in.

“Hello Mr. Black, could I trouble you for a quick word?”

“He’s asleep-” James began, hesitantly, disliking the thought of waking Q from any of his much needed rest. Darcy gently interrupted him however from a full protest.

“It was you I wanted to talk to actually.” Slightly befuddled, James shrugged and followed the doctor into the corridor.

“This might be a bit of a delicate issue, but I was hoping that you wouldn’t mind if I conducted your mate’s appointment without you present tomorrow.” James was taken aback, standing without betraying emotion and just blinking at the beta, who went on with an air of gentle assurance.

“There’s nothing wrong, to my knowledge, but I’ll be doing a full check of both mother and baby, and this is a very traumatic situation. Please don’t misunderstand me, but sometimes it can be both easier and informative for both parents if they can be given the facts in private.”

“Like you did with me.” James confirmed, remembering the solace he’d found in the man’s steady nature not days ago. He didn’t want Q to have to need the same… but.

“Yes,” Darcy replied, slightly relieved sounding that James wasn’t growling at him. “I understand that somehow your mate was shown an ultrasound yesterday. Whilst that might have given him some much-needed confirmation, he’s no doubt in a delicate state of mind right now. And though you’re more than welcome to share an ultrasound with him at any time during a check up whilst you’re both here, it can be useful to assess an individual’s health without the influence of their mate present, although you two are closer to each other than anyone else, he may appreciate the opportunity to voice fears or questions that he hasn’t felt up to with you there.” James took a deep breath in and out through his nose. Again, although he hoped this wouldn’t be how Q felt, he could understand his omega’s position well enough to accept the facts.

“He could be unsure of his situation, confused, or maybe not wanting to worry you, or absolutely fine, but either way it gives him the chance to come to terms with the facts from a different angle.”

James really couldn’t, and wouldn’t, deny Q of the opportunity to have some God dammed control; that was what Darcy was offering: independence.

“Yes, he should have that chance.”

 

-00Q00-

 

“Hello there, Mr. Black.” It took Q a moment of surprise to come round from his staring at the wall. James had disappeared off to get some breakfast, and told Q that Dr. Darcy would be by to give him a check up.

As ever, the man was smiling, albeit gently.

“I’m here to do a check up, if that’s alright with you.” Q expected he didn’t really have a choice, confined to a bed as he was, but nodded nonetheless.   
The doctor started setting up his equipment. To be honest, Q was pretty much dreading it.

Darcy went through the basic measurements, helping Q move about to check his weight, etc. By the end of it the quartermaster was just too tired to care that he was only wearing his pyjamas in front of the man. The nurses had already seen worse; nothing seemed to make you feel more exposed than a hospital gown.

At least the catheter hadn’t had to be put back in, even if it did mean Q had to rely heavily on James being around to help him get to the bathroom. Or a nurse, but thankfully it hadn’t come to that yet.

Of course, that meant that James had been trapped at his side. Q was both desperately glad of him, and somewhat urgent that he left… Although the desire for his alpha to go was undoubtedly a mixture of varying twisted emotions. Some of it was entirely selfish and almost repulsive to think of; that he simply wanted to be alone and left to be miserable and not have to worry about someone else. But there was also a decent portion that couldn’t stop worrying about James no matter how ill the omega himself felt… maybe the second point caused the first, Q wasn’t sure he wanted to examine it too deeply.

Maybe he was just trying not to pay too close attention to the appointment, though he knew that was probably a bad idea. Eventually, the doctor regained his somewhat frayed attention.

“Are you ready for an ultrasound?” Feeling a pit of dread at the words, Q shrugged a bit helplessly. He was terrified that there would be even less movement than before, or that the doctor would suddenly go quiet, or that he would reveal complications.

“Alright,” Darcy was as professional and careful as ever, waiting till Q had sat up by himself –a feat that he had embarrassingly not mastered until this morning- and going through the set up.

The ultrasound was mostly silent, although the beta recorded foetal heartbeat and confirmed that it was now back to a good rhythm for size, looked at the spine and organs, keeping a quiet commentary up for Q.

Everything was remarkably normal.

“So why isn’t there any movement?” Q couldn’t keep himself from asking, feeling both wan and desperate. The question plagued him near-constantly when he allowed himself to think about it. Of course Q was bright enough to competently understand stress and recovery periods, and so he knew why Blasty wasn’t moving… the question was something so intrinsically linked with his instincts and anxieties that he couldn’t logic his way out of it however.

Dr. Darcy paused the screen, and the sudden stillness made Q jump.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to alarm you, but please take a closer look,” he turned the machine back on and the change to even the small shifting movements seemed like a world away from the stillness. “Of course these are too slight for you to feel, but your pup is still moving constantly, growing, although I realise that it isn’t easy for you to accept it as the same as before.” Q nodded a bit mutely.

“And that’s because it isn’t the same, the shock you both went through, well, the phrase ‘shock to the system’ is rather accurate really. Your pup was almost entirely spared the brunt of the damage, but your stress and system failure combined with hormones and the blood loss, it inevitably has an effect on the baby.” The man turned fully to Q, face gentle as ever and entirely calm though he managed to look as if he understood.

“Remember, all of your baby’s nutrients, oxygen, everything, is carried and given through your blood stream, where all of your hormones travel too, and immune system, everything. The act of saving your baby inevitably put you into extreme distress, especially given the situation before hand, likely there were many signals being relayed between the two of you. And although you are keeping your pup in beautiful health, both of you are extremely co-dependant right now. You mentally, and your baby physically, are feeling the effects of the other’s recovery, just as your physical suffering is inducing the behaviour change in your baby… Put simply, you’re both obeying the doctor’s bed rest orders.”

Q listened to his doctor talking, and felt a bit soothed, though still incredibly sad and nervous about the whole thing. But he trusted Dr. Darcy, who he knew; like himself and James, had their pup’s best interests at heart. Unlike the doctors overseeing his recovery, who’s focus was on the patient they could help.

“It sounds incredibly boring and far too simple, but it really is true that as long as you take it easy and recover, your pup will too.” He added with a gently amused smile. Q glanced back at the machine, where Blasty –James’ Rumbles, he remembered- was looking no more still than he had the other night with Sherlock and Mycroft.

“How are you feeling in yourself?” Q swallowed and looked down at the question, unable to form the defence of a mask right now.

“I just can’t, not with…” He nodded slightly towards the screen. The doctor slowly turned off the machine now that Q’s attention was not fixated on it and shifted to face Q with an attentive, open body posture.

“It might not help, but given the circumstances it is entirely normal for you to be feeling far from your best. I’m afraid that the complex relay system between mother and baby will probably keep you from your best for a while too.” Q bit his lips at the familiar sting in his eyes, unwilling to be driven to tears yet again in this pregnancy. And the shame of his current state didn’t help him one damn bit.

“I just feel so helpless, useless.” Q found himself blurting instead. Emotions he didn’t want to voice in front of James, though he wasn’t sure which of the pair of them he was trying to be stoic for.

“Are you feeling depressed?” The level, soft question had Q nod jerkily, and he wondered if he should tell the man about all his various mental issues from the past.

“I’d rather not put you on medication if possible, although if you feel unable to cope then we can look at options.” Even to know there were options seemed to offer some kind of platform to stand on, and Q managed to shake his head.

“I’ve dealt with this kind of thing before… albeit not quite so…” He gestured weakly, and the doctor nodded in the corner of his vision.

“I’m sorry to hear that, but if you want to talk to a professional at any point, I’m happy to refer you to someone.” Even though he had talked to therapists in the past, mostly during uni, the paper work to enlist a secure one now, and the process of filling them in from the beginning, was far too much for him to process.

Besides, it wasn’t the torture that had terrified him, although the feeling of helpless vulnerability wasn’t something he’d been able to shake off, but rather the unbearable grief and anxiety associated with the thought of loosing his baby. And that, Q was fairly certain, was something that every mother had experienced… not that he knew any other pregnant individuals to talk to about that, if he would even want to.

Well, there was M’s mate, but Q hardly knew him… really… it would probably be improper, and the omega wasn’t even sure he wanted to talk or run the risk of seeing the man’s living, breathing children.

God he was going to have to talk to M at some point. They’d probably want him to debrief. And then there was his branch, and the new house, and preparing for his last months of pregnancy and having a newborn.

Q didn’t realise he had finally succumbed to the fretting tears of stress until he became aware of the doctor’s hand rubbing his back, the omega’s own hands pressed firmly up under his glasses as his shoulders shook.

“Other than your mate, of course, do you have other people who can help support you two right now, even if its just coming over to clean the house or cook, it can make a world of difference to your state and peace of mind to have some worries taken off your shoulders.

Q didn’t know if the man was a mind reader or if he’d sobbed out loud, but the thought settled into him, first with some worry that he had no one, but then the realisation that he did, really, he supposed.

If he talked to M, the man would sort out his branch, time away from MI6, James’ leave if the alpha wanted to take any, which Q thought he probably would. M could basically make his life a lot simpler. Then there was Eve and R. R to hold down the branch with the other one-time ‘R potentials’ there to back him up, and Q could trust the man to keep accurate reports. Which Tanner would keep an eye on with calm authority, and 005 was apparently lending a hand of solidarity. Eve had been something of an angel in the past when Q had been ill or tired, they’d helped each other out a lot with odd jobs, even food shopping. Tanner and Eve were both good friends; they would leap to his assistance in all likelihood.

Alec would be there for James, he’d promised as much, and Q trusted him, trusted them together. So when he worried James was worrying himself sick, or if they both needed a break or a pick me up, Alec would probably be only too happy to bound into their home and turn it upside down in his own unique way. When he was back from missions, anyway. Hell, in their new house they’d even joked about leaving one of the rooms for him.

Then there were his brothers, who he hadn’t really had a chance to talk to, if he felt strong enough too. Mycroft would probably make himself as invaluable as ever, and considering the things he’d already done; such as organising cleaning crews, food, dinners… well, Mycroft’s generosity in spoiling terms spoke for itself. His alpha brother had become an entirely unexpected and wholly welcome source of support.

As for Sherlock, well, Q wasn’t really sure what to expect. He realised with a slight stab of guilt that he hadn’t looked too closely at Sherlock’s recovery given his single-minded need to obsess over Blasty. But if there was one thing to be said for the man, it was that he’d always understood what Q was going through without the omega having to say a word. Whether or not he acted on it was a different matter, but sometimes it was a relief to not have to talk to anyone about it, and still have them understand. Of course, he had no idea what effect the situation had had on the beta either. As far as Q could understand, Sherlock must have been tortured too to some extent.

“I have people.” Q managed finally, and the doctor smiled.

“Good, talk to them, if you can, trust me that packs can be the difference between smooth recovery and added stress. Even though you might not be able to appreciate it for a couple of weeks.”

Q could, at least, see the sense in that. After all, if there was one thing that had surprised him about this pregnancy it was how much more pack-like everything had felt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope next chapter to get 00Q out of hospital! I know its a long stretch of story ingesting away in here, but hopefully you guys are enjoying some h/c lurve!
> 
> I wish I had intelligent things to say, but my eyes are crossing with sleep! ':D Attractive!
> 
> There will be more interactions next chapter including John, Sherlock, M & Tanner, maybe others such as Eve/Alec/Mycroft (no not as a threesome! oh dear the need for sleep)... I don't know if that's an enticement but I'm basically throwing out the guest list to hopefully appease anyone left wanting! ;D
> 
> Anyway thank you for reading, and commenting, and kudosing! TONS OF HUGS!!! *falls into nest*


	28. H0: All things said and done; H1: Penny for your thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This felt quite quick! But then I had already written half of it... Next chapter we may not be so lucky, fair warning! Still getting used to the new job...
> 
> Anyway this is pretty long still! But I might try to go back to the 5000 word mark for the next few chapters in order to get them out each week. We shall see!
> 
> Also, we're officially half way through the pregnancy now! 20 weeks, go team!

Q’s reports from all doctors were that he was still under ideal weight for this stage of pregnancy, but he was gaining it back gradually now that he could eat solid foods again. His movement was coming on nicely, even if strength was still minimal at best. The bandages on his wrists had been replaced with thinner, more supportive ones, and the physio who had come by on Thursday morning gave some simple arm and back stretches to help ease his strained muscles. No lasting damage was the positive prognosis. Q was down to a daily ultrasound and foetal check, and upon release he would have to come back twice a week for check ups for two weeks, maybe three.

Overall, it seemed very easy, but James, as well as the doctors, knew that what it really meant was up to two weeks of Q being unable to be as active as he would like and a further one of easing back into normal routines. Not to mention battling the dissociative depression that continued to plague him.

James wasn’t expecting that to recover any swifter than Q’s bodily strength however. Other, less noted side effects of the ordeal were that Q was nervous and subdued, bordering on submissive, had a fairly poor attention span and seemed unable to completely regulate his body temperature, prone to getting very cold very quickly. That wasn’t anything blankets couldn’t solve, but it was still an added thought in the alpha’s mind.

And there were a lot of thoughts in his mind; Q wasn’t the only creature in turmoil.

On Wednesday morning Sherlock was released from the hospital. James only found out because John came by to tell him, in a bit of a fretful state, when the alpha was returning to Q’s room after giving the doctor time to talk with the omega alone.

John was rubbing his face and performing other nervous ticks as he announced Sherlock was just released and had disappeared off god knows where before John could catch up with him.

“You didn’t go too?” James questioned, so far the two betas had been joined at the either silent or bickering hip at Sherlock’s bedside, both seemingly shaken but determined not to show it. They were apparently content enough in this plan and resilient enough to the trauma that James wasn’t overtly worried about the pair of them. He knew it was far from their first meeting with danger and terror, plus they had now soundly put Moriarty and accomplices in the ground for good, including the sniper Moran, who was the man John downed so efficiently that had been torturing Sherlock. That afforded them some peace of mind at least, some knowledge of control that Q didn’t have, as the omega had no link to their attacker other than relation to the name Holmes and being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

James had studied the situation as coldly as he went over unsuccessful missions. He could see in Sherlock’s behaviour at the time, and aversive eyes now, that he had only been attempting to protect Q by dragging him along on a city-wide escape rather than leaving him to be shredded by bullets, and besides, it was Q that had gotten them out of the initial line of fire. And unconsciously made both of them running targets, though far better that then dead.

Either way, having gotten reports from John over the last few days that Sherlock believed he had hunted and terminated Moran overseas in the year or so he remained in a state of fake death, James conceded that whilst the middle Holmes brother had been foolish not to confirm this thoroughly, he had no reason to know Moran would be there that night on an otherwise seemingly innocuous intel-gathering attempt.

At least, that was what James told himself when he got the desire to wring Sherlock’s neck. By all accounts he would have to do the same to Watson, and he could admit that due to history he was biased to believe Sherlock in the wrong. But both betas had thought up the plan, and whilst John had apologised profusely, it was Sherlock that couldn’t hide the deflated and defeated look from James’ trained eyes. Although admittedly he was pretty good at covering it up.

He came to the conclusion that whilst Q found it almost too difficult at times to deal with emotions, Sherlock was at least slightly incapable in some deep way of either processing or emitting them.

Whatever the case, the man had been acting slightly odd, and for John to let him run off alone odder still.

The shorter man dithered with a moment’s indecision and fret before leaning towards James.

“He had a shouting match with Mycroft.” James raised an eyebrow, surprised that he hadn’t heard it go off.

“Well, I don’t think that Mycroft was blaming Sherlock for what happened so much as generally displaying that he was unable to cope with both his brothers being injured and hospitalised at once. He was furious and actually sounded worried. I don’t think Sherlock knew how to react. He just sat there, or tried to get the fight back onto familiar ground as Mycroft flew into a rage and stormed off. He hasn’t spoken since and disappeared an hour ago… probably off chain smoking somewhere.” ‘Or worse’ James supplied silently as John rubbed his face in complete stress.

“Was Mycroft giving him the wrong impression?” James asked, believing this to be more than entirely possible. John however shook his head.

“He actually bellowed ‘because I care’ when Sherlock demanded to know ‘why his knickers were in a twist’. Struck him dumb, actually, not to mention when Mycroft continued to say ‘why do you always think I watch the pair of you? Lord knows you’re clever enough to get out of your own trouble, not that you’d tell me anyway when I could help. You don’t talk to me for a year and now I find you both like this.’” John took a deep breath and sighed after repeating the conversation matter-of-factly.

James was a bit windswept by it, remembering Mycroft loosing his composure in the hospital and Q’s references to the pair of them not talking, the overbearing nature and the forced rehab for Sherlock.

Tensions ran high in the family; that was for sure. James didn’t think that there was a solution, either. John sighed again.

“The thing is Mycroft has been trying to talk to Sherlock for months now, but other than managing to surprise him into communication with news of their brother, they haven’t spoken. I think it was a game for Sherlock at first, but I don’t think he’d realised how much Q’s pregnancy has effected and changed Mycroft. He’s a lot different form two years ago, a lot more open… I don’t know if Sherlock’s more frustrated that he didn’t pick up on the world changing around him or if he’s just worried he can’t keep up with it…” With another heavy breath John stood up straight and moved to continue his search.

“One of the only things he’s said other than the ‘obvious’ about his little brother was right when we first found out Mycroft had contacted him, and Sherlock growled out afterwards that ‘Aster was mine’. I think he meant brother, rather than possession. He probably latched onto Q for some reason as a child and couldn’t take the thought of Mycroft replacing him… he doesn’t do well with change…” John met his eyes. “I don’t know all the details, I’m sure you know more, and I’m not sure what it was all like back when they were kids… but I know enough to know that it wasn’t good. And I know enough personally to know that dealing with an unstable sibling is hard… So, if you can, please give Sherlock a chance, he’s done more for me than probably anyone else, and wouldn’t accept a penny for any of it. He might not show it, or even know how to help sometimes, but he does care, and it’s often in the ways you least expect…but need the most…” James watched, slightly wide-eyed at the amount of information and honest words as John turned slightly bashful and awkwardly shifted his position and nodded to James.

“Um, anyway, let me know if you see him will you? I’ve no idea what he could get up to, but I’d rather be there.” With that and a nod the man headed off.

“Wait.” James couldn’t keep himself from his curiosity. “What did he do for you?” John seemed to interpret his question as benign and offered a single, strangely melancholic and prideful smile at the same time.

“I used to have a psychosomatic limp.” He informed, chin held high, and with that continued off down the corridor.

Left with an impression of new information and a new angle, James reflected that he might be impressed. And also that when John talked about ‘unstable sibling’ and the difficulty of them, that he was most likely referring to Q, rather than Mycroft or Sherlock.

Granted, all three of them seemed screwed six ways from Sunday, but Q claimed that he was struggling from an age as early as three. For an already likely unstable ten year old, well, it wasn’t a situation that enabled a positive outcome.

Left mulling over thoughts, James continued back to Q’s room, to find none other than Sherlock Holmes sitting on his brother’s bed and stroking his hair.

The scene was so close to John’s plea to give Sherlock a chance that, despite the old clench in his stomach, James took a breath, let the pressure ease, and slipped silently back out of the room, leaning in the corridor to text John that he’d found the errant detective, but to wait rather than rush in.

 

-00Q00-

 

“Do you want me to find Mr. Black on my way out?” Dr. Darcy had just finished tidying up his equipment after the appointment, and was eyeing Q with a small amount of worry.

Q was just trying to keep from slipping entirely under into the rabbit hole of his mind. Understandably, the good doctor was a bit worried by how quickly the omega had gone from emotional to unresponsive. It wasn’t that Q was feeling particularly stressed by their conversation, but rather the weight of just how important his recovery was in Blasty’s health was just beginning to sink in. He couldn’t afford to get stressed; therefore avoiding stressful situations seemed like a good plan, ergo the dip in his focus on his surroundings.

He wished he had a laptop or even a phone with him.

“He’ll come by, its alright, I’ll just sleep.” Q responded monotonously, hoping that tiredness as an excuse would satisfy Darcy. Really, he had no doubts that anyone other than James who discovered the extent of his escapist tendencies would be quick to take him to a shrink. Which wasn’t really on the top of Q’s agenda right now.

“Here, let me help you lie down.”

“I’ll help with that.” Q startled a bit at Sherlock’s voice interrupting, blinking and looking over as the sound the door shutting overlaid approaching footsteps. Q watched his brother’s approach a bit blankly, seeing the strangely tight expression on the detective’s face.

“Um, are you-“

“Brother, I’m his brother.” Sherlock uttered hurriedly, there was something terribly unsettled and tense in the grey-blue eyes. Q frowned a little.

“Oh, of course.” Darcy stood with a final glance at the pair of them and left, evidently he’d been informed about Sherlock somewhere down the line.

Q sniffed the air delicately once as Sherlock’s eyes traced down his body with that fracturing expression. To be fair, Q hadn’t been focused enough during the beta’s last visit to pay attention to what state of mind the man was in.

As soon as the door shut Sherlock sat down on the bed, eyes avoiding Q’s for another long moment before, taking Q by surprise, the beta took his hand and moved a second to his hair. Their eyes locked.

“How are you?”

“’M alright…” Q hedged, a bit cautious and worried about just what state his brother was in, frowning slightly. Sherlock’s hands fidgeted where they rested on Q before stilling.

“Come on, I’ll help you down.” The man began shifting the covers.

“I can manage-“

“Please.” Q was entirely halted by the sharp eyes falling on him, and nodded a bit, stunned silent. He let himself be guided down to the bed, onto his side and tucked in. Sherlock’s hand came to curl around his neck, thumb stroking occasionally.

The movement was still a little jerky, not quite the correct pressure, and Sherlock wasn’t making eye-contact, but it was entirely more comfortable than the times Sherlock had attempted to copy the move from Mummy when they were children. John must have brought out some of the softness in him, somehow.

“Mycroft’s changed.” Q shifted a bit, partly in confusion and partly so that he could get his hands to his belly again. Since he hadn’t been able to muster up the courage to talk to Blasty yet, he felt the need to replicate connection somehow.

“I thought you knew that… You said it to me.” Q pointed out, voice automatically softening and relaxing in the same way he used to use when talking properly with Sherlock as a child.

Sherlock however shook his head with a tense breath, eyes narrowing as he looked somewhere around the vicinity of Q’s left shoulder, thumb starting to tap absently.

“Not like this. It’s more. Its different.” He insisted. “I think he’s responding to you, though I can’t think how.” Q frowned.

“It could just be hormones…” He suggested. There was, of course, no way to really analyse or articulate the ways and whys that Mycroft had changed. Q found he didn’t often care to closely examine human changes, just vaguely understand and accept them… in Mycroft’s case be glad.

“Maybe.”

There was silence for a few minutes, and Q took the time to focus enough to scan his brother, taking in the slight bruising, the wilder hair with some bald patches where it had been ripped out, scabbed over a bit and sore looking.

He hesitated for a moment. For all that Q was more used to Sherlock touching him amicably than Mycroft, Q didn’t usually instigate. True, he insisted on a hug of greeting almost stubbornly, but even that was somehow learnt behaviour, he just wouldn’t stop dissociating with the two of them unless touched when he was young. Since then it had become a way of setting up a meeting as benign to hug them first, show them he didn’t want to dissociate…

Q wasn’t sure really who had trained whom. Certainly both brothers had come to use the same tactics almost as a preventative measure for Q’s disassociation too. In the past, anyway, and now a hugged meeting seemed standard affair.

After a moment Q reached out and brushed Sherlock’s side slightly.

“Are you alright?”

“Hmm?” Sherlock was only slightly taken away from his thoughts.

“…Moran.” Q confirmed, Sherlock met his gaze and held it.

“On the boat, and in the warehouse, I tried to hold onto you. But you were unconscious and they took you away. There was nothing I could do.” Q tried not to furrow his brow too much at the fidgety tone, the increased hold on his neck, the slight tremor in long fingers.

“I know.”

“And you… your…” Sherlock’s voice shook and trailed off, his eyes slipped to Q’s belly. With fright Q saw his brother’s face whiten. “Your mate told me what you did, and how you, for…”

Q sat himself up, leaning on his hands and Sherlock’s hands instantly flew to support him frenetically, eyes flashing over him for signs of imminent collapse.

“Sherly…” Sherlock growled low and uneasy, fidgeting in some inner dilemma.

“I didn’t think you’d…” Sherlock squinted his eyes shut and shook slightly at the force of some driving emotion that Q couldn’t guess at or believe he was seeing. “You never fought!” The man finally blurted out. “Not once, not for a whole childhood and now when you finally do you nearly kill yourself in a way our parents would never do, and Mycroft, he doesn’t even-“

With a snap of too much said Sherlock snapped his mouth shut and Q’s eyes widened as he realised Sherlock’s dilemma.

“Mycroft doesn’t blame you?” Q mused in quiet wonder at Sherlock’s turmoil. A lifetime and childhood of slung around blame for all the wrong parties. “What happened?” Sherlock scoffed, but there was an unusual, uneasily amused smile at the corner of his mouth, and his hand drifted down Q’s arm to rest very lightly over his belly as the beta’s voice turned soft and slightly disbelieving.

“He asked how I was, what happened, and then told me I’d done _well_.” The detective shook his head. “By the time John came into the room I’d managed to force him to shout at me, and even then he didn’t turn around and take it back… It doesn’t make any sense!” Sherlock growled out, and seemingly impulsively ducked till their foreheads were together, spare hand curling around the back of Q’s neck once more.

“A whole lifetime of judgement and the one time I deserve it…” Q breathed out long and slow as Sherlock cut himself off and then nosed into his hair. “It was never meant to be you. I always knew Mummy and Father and Mycroft wouldn’t protect you because they never did me, but no matter what I did I couldn’t either, could I? I was so _stupid_ , I couldn’t see what made you worse, I couldn’t understand why you were different. And now you’re something I can barely comprehend.” Q stilled slightly, looking at his stomach, attempting to catch onto Sherlock’s twisting drift as best he could.

“Because I protected…” He couldn’t bring himself to say it. Sherlock met his eyes with the ruthless need to reach a certain point that he always had.

“No one would have done it for you.” Q opened his mouth to nearly protest. He shut himself off from mentioning his suspicion of Mycroft’s opportunistic passive manslaughter of their father. If Sherlock didn’t know yet -and how could he, and yet how could he not- then certainly this wasn’t the time… nor was it his to tell. Similarly he didn’t mention all the little moments of salvation that Sherlock had offered him, small but so damn welcome, through those years. The anger on his behalf, on both their behalf’s, however misguided. Anger that Q had never been able to feel much less act upon, instead dissolving into frustration and depression.

It wasn’t what Sherlock meant, and nor would it be a credible argument, really.

“Nobody did it for you either.” He murmured instead.

“That’s irrelevant.”

“It’s really, really not.” Q contradicted, horribly sad and tired. Sherlock’s hands stilled for a moment. 

“Well, it is to me…” The gentle rubbing movement resumed on Q’s stomach. “It’s the first time I’ve seen a foetus.” Q knew Sherlock meant a ‘live’ foetus, but was endlessly glad that his brother hadn’t said it. The thought alone turned him nauseous and shaky.

“I honestly didn’t believe it a possibility.” Q could only too easily understand why Sherlock doubted he would ever become pregnant.

“Neither did I, to be honest.” Sherlock debated in silence for a moment.”

“What you did for your…child.” Sherlock settled on the word with debate and then decisiveness.

“I’m going to do that for you.” Q’s eyes went wide and he searched Sherlock’s sharply for meaning. “I’m going to look after you.” Q blinked in confusion.

“Y-you don’t have to-“

“Of course I don’t have to, nobody has to do anything.” Sherlock interrupted impatiently before taking a deep breath. “It’s all I ever wanted to do. Because nobody else ever had, no one had managed. Not that I did either.”

Q knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that what must have driven Sherlock to fake his own death must have been a similar desperation to that which drove him to save Blasty, look after James. And his career choice as a detective, well, it had to be a driving force, mixed in puzzles and intrigue and challenge, but the need to right wrongs had always been strong. Even when Sherly had wanted to be a pirate, they always lived some sort of Robin Hood like existence… albeit with more treasure guarded by malign intent in positions of power that needed to be defeated.

“I want to be there, for you, and around you, with John, and whoever you’re growing in here, and everyone else you seem to collect around you… I want that. And… I’m going to fix this.”

Q could only stare for a long minute, dually amazed and a little heartbroken by his brother’s desire for a pack, a family, and the childlike demanding manner he had to use to express such a smothered wish.

“Will you let me?” Sherlock asked, finally meeting Q’s eyes after a long while, and continued before Q had a chance to do more than open his mouth. “Of course you’ll let me. I’ll prove that it’s worth it… How do I prove it? Never mind, I’ll think of something.”

A bit blindsided, Q could only stare a bit dumbly before deciding just to go along with it and sagging back down to the bed. Sherlock gently helped him down and then set up camp stroking the omega’s hair.

“I’ll make it up to you. Mycroft can’t have all the glory. I’ll prove betas do it better.”

Q was fairly sure that he should point out he didn’t blame Sherlock for what happened, but he knew that his brother would know that already, that it didn’t change his resolve.

Besides, the thought of Sherlock being around, being present, even if strange, managed to seep through as some sort of comfort in his otherwise distressed mind.

He had James, MI6 and Alec, had gained Mycroft in surprising levels, if he could have his whole family…

It was hard to imagine right now, when he felt so many unbearable things, but there was a certain weighty comfort to it. The stretching silence helped him slip back under the shadow of his own mind, but still Sherlock remained, and Q was sure he heard a soft ‘shhh’ as he drifted away into comforting numbness.

 

-00Q00-

 

Q had just had his Thursday check up and taken a short walk mostly unaided when none other than Tanner and M showed up.

The doctors scurried out as if they could smell the secrecy and authority exuding from the pair, but M had eyes for no one but Q, and a brief nod at James.

“Quartermaster,” M waited until all the doctors had exited to speak, and came forwards. Q attempted to shift further upright with a strain, tired from even the small amount of exercise he’d been asked to perform. M ceased his movement with a raised hand and stood at a close yet respectable distance from the bed as Q eased back down, attempting to appear composed.

To James though, he still looked pale as a ghost behind his glasses.

“Sir.” Q greeted in stiff return with a nod, not meeting the alpha’s eyes.

“I’ve been filled in on the situation. If you want a formal debrief you’re more than welcome, but equally I’m happy to record this one as observed.”

“Yes, okay.” Q managed, voice turning a bit faint. M fixed Q with a long, careful look.

“Are you alright?” Q nodded a bit.

“Yes.” M cast him a wry glance.

“Honesty is always appreciated Q, but I wont press the issue. May I?” The man gestured at the space on the bed by Q’s hip.

“It’s fine.” Q murmured, James could tell that Q wasn’t quite all there still, regardless; he retreated into a corner with Tanner whilst M struck up a quiet conversation.

“How has he been?” Tanner queried Bond, nodding to the bed. James watched his wan faced mate and frowned.

“The hospital’s wearing a bit thin. There’s nothing for him to distract himself with.”

“From what they told us he shouldn’t even be lifting teacups without a guard.” From anyone other than Tanner it would have seemed a slight against Q, but knowing them both, James expected Tanner was more accusatory at the hospital, and the situation. The two were close, the Chief of Staff and the Quartermaster.

“And the pup?“

“…We’re not sure. It all hinges on Q’s recovery. The thing they wont say is that if he doesn’t recover the extensive stress could be just as dangerous. But it’s plain enough to see, especially for Q.” Tanner looked at him sharply and then nodded to M.

“Plain enough for all of us I dare say.” James turned to pay a bit closer attention to the pair on the bed, and was surprised to see Q stuttering to utter a few words, M listening, and then replying with the most earnest expression on his face.

James straightened a bit, intrigued, maybe impressed. Mallory didn’t seem off put or disappointed that Q couldn’t keep his voice steady, or that he was trembling, or barely managing to keep focus.

The sight reminded him again that M had a mate of his own, one with three pregnancies under his belt.

He couldn’t imagine what his M would have done in this situation. But he could remember that Mallory had undergone three months captivity, had taken a bullet for M and aided in their escape without a word to the authorities…

The man had made one grave wrong against Q to make up for, but he was. And somehow, now that the man’s natural soldier sense of solidarity was coming through once more, James thought that maybe the man had come through some sort of epiphany on his leadership qualities.

Either way, James appreciated the kind if authoritative patience with Q. Even more he hoped that, as Tanner suggested, the alpha was doing his best to take stress off Q’s barely upright shoulders and help him to take in peace the time to recover that was so desperately needed.

“They were saying Saturday for release downstairs.” Tanner offered, and it gave James a ray of hope.

Hospitals were no place for healing the mind. He wanted to get Q home.

 

-00Q00-

 

M watched patiently as Q stumbled through his explanation of how he was doing. He couldn’t be entirely honest with the alpha, but tried to get the main points across. M could read between the lines well enough, especially when Q was essentially talking about Blasty’s recovery rather than his own.

Q was surprised to see that M was the first person that had kept hands to himself whilst visiting Q. To be honest, it wasn’t a distance the omega had known he’d appreciate before someone was giving it to him.

“You’ve done wonderfully.” M intoned, voice low and serious. It somehow seemed to mean a great deal coming from M, who managed to remain stoic so often.

“Your branch were clamouring to arrange some sort of fanfare for your departure from the hospital, but I think I’ve managed to dissuade them.” It almost brought a smile to his face.

The alpha went on to detail how his branch were coping, handling everything as best they could, which was pretty damn well and apparently a compliment to his leadership. Q found himself greedy for details, nodding along at everything M could possibly tell him, the information soothing him slightly, easing some pressure. They had fail-safes in place to cope with a number of contingencies.

The relief guided him back towards the darkness of his mind, the numbness, allowed him to settle a bit more comfortably there. M paused and debated for a moment before meeting Q’s eyes.

“Daniel sends his love.” It seemed as if M hesitated to say it for fear of rejection of the offered love. Q didn’t think he really knew how to react to it.

“Oh…” M took a little breath.

“When we first met, Daniel had been formally dismissed form MI6 after the Le Chiffre business. He’d found a way into government work, but inside he was incredibly bitter, made some bad lifestyle choices… I myself was entirely too chivalrous, idealistic, years since Ireland and believing I could make a difference to every person’s life with a few kind words and sensible advice…”

Q watched, wondering what on earth was possessing M to share such quietly spoken and intimate details, curiosity alone kept him focused.

“Since falling from his position, he was disallowed suppressants, being no longer of a high enough ranking position to demand he couldn’t take heat leave. I hadn’t met him more than in passing until I walked in to find him in distress in my office. He’d had a miscarriage, unbonded, just some beta that he’d picked up at a pub and spent a heat with. He didn’t know he was pregnant, was only in my office because he knew I kept enough alcohol in there to drown a small army.” M shook his head ruefully at their behaviour.

“I hadn’t realised that I was still such a mess until I saw this pale and drawn omega holding one of many bottles of my scotch in his hand, myself reflected in the dark window behind him. The only reason I was that late at the office was because I despised my house.

“I took him to the hospital, I took him to his house, then when I saw the vicious shape of it I took him out of it, took him to my house. He fell asleep on the sofa with another bottle in his hand like he couldn’t be bothered not to belong there. I slept upright in a chair, and it was the first time I could sleep in my own house in years. From that morning on it became habit to go to work with him, bring him home. He could sort out and warm my life and house like he couldn’t his own, I could make him feel comfortable and cherished like I couldn’t for my own life. To each other, we became important, needed. When his heat came around again, I hadn’t even thought about it, but everything just fell into place.” M checked Q’s face as if to be sure that Q wasn’t becoming bored, quite the opposite, really, he had never given much pause to think about M’s life at home, or where his mate had come from… somehow it was relaxing to know that they weren’t the picture perfect couple they were no doubt represented as in public.

Everyone was just as screwed up as everyone else, really.

“We went on to have three children, as you know. Daniel was insistent upon one, then two, then three. I would have been happy with just him, until suddenly there were more little feet in the house than I could keep an eye on and more little fingers trying to wrap my will around them than I could count. We had two failed pregnancies along the way, and a handful of other events that made for some hard marches… But nothing that compares to going home in the evening and seeing those four faces smiling to see me arrive home.” The man offered a self-cynical raised eyebrow.

“Forgive the long way of getting to the point, but I thought you deserved to know, being the intelligence part of military intelligence after all. It’s not all over, and take all the time you need, is what I wanted to say. Whenever you’re ready, I’ll see you back at branch, and my phone is always open to calls… though if we’re in the middle of an international incident you may be put on hold.” He smiled to hint at the joke.

Q felt very young from taking in the tale of the Mallory’s, although he wasn’t that young really, and he’d been through enough to grant him a few years more maturity than he’d lived through. He had just never contemplated that so many people would _understand_. Would sympathise.

The world really wasn’t such a small place after all. It just shared _patterns_ , like a line of code.

To know that other people might have felt like this, like him, in a similar situation maybe, and had lived through it, well, it gave him some hope.

“Thank you.” Q replied, eventually after mulling it over. M rarely smiled, but he managed that warm half-smirk of his.

“Thank you, quartermaster. I look forward to seeing you soon under different circumstances. Call in a week if you can to update me, and keep Bond with you, but feel free to send him in for paper work if you think he needs to stretch his legs.”

The way M said it; Q had a feeling that maybe Daniel had sent him off to do the same thing when pregnant. In his mind he could visualise M hovering over a rotund mate and being ordered to go into work and do something useful to calm his alpha hormones. Q didn’t really have it in him to smile, but he nodded, and apparently M was prepared to accept that gracefully.

“All the best, Q.” The warm and calming farewell heralded the man’s departure, and Tanner briefly stepped forwards around James to grip Q’s shoulder and smile at him in a saddened manner.

“Get well soon, Q, I’ve taken the liberty of arranging some things for you and the new house, should be waiting at home for you, thought it might ease the transitions…” Apparently at a loss of what else to say he squeezed Q’s shoulder again and left after shaking James’ hand.

His alpha came over, and Q felt exhausted at all the interaction. He reached out when he saw James smile softly at him and pulled his mate’s hand and body towards him greedily.

“Will you lie with me?” James’ eyes brightened with a deep need and relief.

“With pleasure.”

It wasn’t an unbearable squeeze with two of them on the bed, and James’ arms wrapped around him and pulled him close into solid, welcoming, familiar warmth. Q breathed in the scent of the man and curled up against him, tucking his head under James’ chin, the alpha hummed in pleasure at the movement, of having Q so close. It had been days since they’d last been this wrapped in each other, and as one of James’ arms slid down to rub the small of Q’s back and hold him solidly, the other buried in his hair, the omega managed to not feel quite as helplessly terrified.

He had James. He could make it through anything.

He just might need some time to do it.

One arm snaked around James’ back and held him tightly as the other hand settled on his stomach. Q looked down, closed his eyes and breathed out slowly.

“It’s alright, we’ll… we’ll be okay.” He spoke to Blasty, and also in part to James, whose arms tightened around him as a kiss was pressed into his hair long and slow.

Maybe he couldn’t manage much right now before pushing himself back into detachment, but it was a start.

All he needed was somewhere to start.

 

-00Q00-

 

“Ready to go home?” James woke Q with on Saturday morning, hand carefully stroking through Q’s hair. His mate blinked tiredly up at him, hands limp around his belly. Last night hadn’t been a good one for either of them.

Q was recovered enough from his exhaustion that he’d started having nightmares. They left him shaking and unable to sleep, sometimes crying or despondent, and sometimes throwing up.

It wasn’t what the omega needed at all. James thought Q might be better at home; at least he could wear himself out into more restful sleep with pottering around the house. They’d have to pack too, James realised.

Their new house would be ready for them to move into in two weeks. It seemed an absurdly long time ago now that they were ecstatically buying their new home, and James didn’t think there could be worse timing.

With Q like he was, packing up their old life into boxes would not only be distressing but impractical.

The alpha had talked to Mycroft, who had been round on Friday unfortunately whilst Q was asleep, and asked that he send round the cleaning crew and some food so that Q wouldn’t get back to dust and neglect. He’d also spoken with Eve about arranging their move when it happened for minimal stress. She’d been only too keen to help, but James had had to stop her from talking to Q, the female alpha had wanted to badly. Finally he’d asked Alec to come and pick them up from the hospital. James had gotten here in the ambulance and only left in Alec’s car. He didn’t want to leave Q again even just to pick his own up. Besides, he had no idea how well Q would travel even the short distance home after spending a week in a hospital bed, James wanted to be able to sit with his younger mate in the back just in case.

Plus, it wouldn’t hurt to have an added calm and hopefully jovial presence around them both.

“Home?” Q muttered dully. It was painfully apparent that Q was still half asleep, and the part of him that was awake wasn’t really clinging to lucid awareness, preferring the numb of his mind.

It was rather obvious what Q had dreamt about, those same tangled nightmares that caught the mind like a rabbit in a tightening snare. Fear of the last one duplicating into the next, and the next.

James had held Q, calmed him as best he could until Q’s frustrated and distressed mind had done it for him. By five o’clock in the morning Q’s bodily reactions to the dreams had been dampened by disassociation until all Q could really do was cry listlessly whilst staring at the wall, eyes red and shadows under them from the lack of rest.

James hoped this was as bad as the nightmares got. Q didn’t need this. His body couldn’t take it. But it would be ups and downs for a while, until however long it took for Blasty to move.

The bandages on his wrists were at least minimal now, more supportive, and some of the bruising was starting to fade.

James would get him home and into a warm bath, encourage him to walk to and fro the kitchen when they ate, then hopefully Q would sleep peacefully.

He was just so vulnerable right now. James was thankful for Mallory giving him the time off work it took for Q to stabilise.

“You’ve been released this morning, Alec’s coming to pick us up in half an hour.” He announced, and ducked close to murmur against Q’s brow and forehead, brushing his lips along in a close nuzzle. “I wanted to let you sleep, but I thought you might like to get up and dressed first.” Q nodded faintly, barely more than a feeble shift. James swallowed and pressed kisses onto Q for a few aimless minutes. One of Q’s hands managed to curl into the alpha’s shirt and cling there like a limpet. The move made it hard for James to get Q up and proved impossible to prise off when it came to divesting the omega of his t-shirt for a clean one.

“Q, love…” Q’s eyes were only half open; making it patently obvious even without the glazed expression that there wasn’t much awareness.

For the first time, James managed to see, maybe understand, how Sherlock and Mycroft couldn’t cope with Q as a child. For the man that needed constant feedback and information, to the one who needed to direct and maintain complete order and control, Q in this state provided nothing but the shell of human needs. And most of what he wanted was just contact.

Since M’s visit on Thursday, Q had been unwilling to let James out of either sight or reach, and last night he had become responsive to little else other than James moving away.

Heart aching, James pulled Q’s head to his chest and held him upright there, petting his hair gently, soothingly.

Q would come back, he would, he just needed a few minutes.

As predicted, Q’s breathing changed and he became relaxed rather than limp limbed. James shifted down until he could kiss the younger man; he was attempting to create a reward-based system for Q coming out of his more dissociative moments. If he could encourage Q that the world wasn’t all bad, then maybe the omega could face it with more strength.

There was a gentle if faint press of lips back to his, and Q un-clutched from the front of James’ shirt.

“Ready to go home love?” James asked again, and Q looked up at him and away, still exhausted and face a little lost in that same fragile way, but responsive.

“Okay. Can I get dressed first?” It hurt a bit, because his Q wasn’t usually this unsure and tentative creature, but a bright and stunningly sharp minded individual with a ready smile and a calm demeanour, a laugh that was infectious… But this was a part of the omega too, and Q had learnt to deal with James’ drunken nights or post-mission-tense ones. Q had patched him back together more than the omega was probably aware. So James could help him with this. He could look after him whilst he stayed vulnerable like this. If that were what he needed, James would do it willingly.

He gave an assent and nosed Q’s neck before holding a very light bite to the familiar mark on the pale throat.

“Do you want to wash now or when we get home?”

“Home.”

“Okay.” Perfect. James would much prefer it that way.

He helped Q up, and the omega insisted on a moment of independence to change clothes sluggishly that James readily allowed. Any willing steps Q took towards being his usual self he wanted to actively encourage. Once finished Q sagged back into the alpha’s arms, pressing his face into James’ shoulder. Arms wound around the blonde’s neck and James wrapped his own around Q’s waist, letting Q mould against him, blinking sadly at nothing, from what he could see reflected in the window.

The doctors came in to find them like that, and Q was guided through a few simple stretches and his prescription to painkillers, a final ultrasound that they both watched without a word.

Even James could admit their pup looked still compared to what he remembered from the sixteen-week appointment. He looked as weak as Q. the omega cuddled his belly after the exam was over, and James guarded him.

Alec turned up only ten minutes late and by that time Q had managed to sit on the bed rather than hunch over on it. James hadn’t managed to stop guarding. After all, he was protecting two vulnerable loves right now, not just his precious Q.

“Hey there pack, ready to blow this Popsicle stand?” Entrances were definitely Alec’s forte. James preferred exits, himself. The more dramatic the better.

The other alpha strode into the room, clad in his usual old leather jacket and rough jeans for off-mission clothes. Alec’s smile remained easy even whilst his eyes sharply appraised first his friend and then quartermaster. James hadn’t been able to keep himself from bringing one of his warm jumpers to put Q in, liking the omega safely ensconced in his scent.

Q looked up and over at Alec, but seemed unable to do more to draw himself together than that. The alpha nodded to James before going over to Q with a gentle and calm demeanour.

“Hello Q dove.” He greeted, and completely surprised James by simply ducking to nuzzle Q’s cheek and ease him from sitting on the opposite side of the bed to standing in one seamless move. Q looked a bit bemused at the affectionate distraction, and blinked a little between the two blonde alphas in the room before slowly shuffling in James’ direction.

“Hello Alec.” Q murmured as he went, eyes on where he was going until reaching the safety of James’ side. The agent wrapped a secure arm around his mate, thinking he’d have to get Alec to teach him all these cunning little omega tricks he’d picked up.

Alec, clearly thinking he was being a clever pup, merely grinned.

“Ready?” James checked with Q briefly, who was managing to hold his own still, just about. The omega took a breath and nodded.

As a rather slow moving procession the three of them left the room. Alec fell into step on Q’s other side in a guard position, opening doors and helping steady Q, who by the time they reached the lobby was holding onto James’ shoulder and leaning heavily.

James knew without looking that Alec had hold of Q’s other arm, both of them glaring anyone in their path scurrying out of the way. It was the longest walk Q had done yet by far, and by the time they reached the car he was trembling and stumbling his footsteps.

Alec moved ahead to open the door, revealing a blanket and pillow ready in place. James helped Q into the backseat, pillow between his bruised back and the leather interior, and slipped round the other side.

Together the two alphas comfortably arranged Q so that his head was on James’ lap and the blanket was covering him snugly. It was only when Q took a deep inhale and released it with a breathy little moan of relief that James sniffed and realised this was one of Q’s own nesting blankets. The pillow probably was as well.

“Never mind secret agent, you should become a caretaker Alec.” James grinned, Alec snorted and started the car with practiced ease.

“Nah, they’d never give me the same car budget.”

“Remind me to increase your car budget, both of your car budgets.” Q mumbled in a barely awake slur. Still, it was one of the few focused moments Q had shown thus far.

“Hey, since James doesn’t need his anymore, can I have double?” Alec tried with charm.

“The budgets mine.” James mock defended, curling around Q.

“You don’t need it!”

“I’m his favourite.”

“He’s just pretending that so you don’t know about my car budget.”

“Q wouldn’t give you a budget you could so easily destroy on a single mission.”

“Shhh.” Q sounded mildly annoyed by the boisterous conversation keeping him from sleep, frowning with his eyes closed.

The agents laughed quietly, and James stroked Q’s hair and neck in apology.

It didn’t take too long to drive back to their flat, thankfully, since Q wasn’t very comfortable and had been unable to completely drop off to sleep.

Rousing the exhausted omega took a good two minutes and James carried him up to the flat, not wanting to tire him to the point of sickness. Q just dosed against him, wrapped thickly in the blanket, until Alec opened the door to the flat and James set his cargo on the floor. He kept his hands on Q to catch the younger man just in case.

The omega looked around with a worried little expression before slipping back into tiredly numb. When he stumbled off in the direction of the kitchen, James let him go, but kept an eye.

“Was he really ready to be released?” Alec questioned, watching the direction their quartermaster had wandered off in. “He’s barely lucid.”

“Better here than in the hospital.” Alec shrugged in agreement at that, and looked around.

“Some cleaners showed up yesterday, I nearly shot them but they had credentials, and Eve brought over some things from her and Tanner. I think most of them are clothes for Q and other…things. Didn’t make the least bit of sense to me.” James frowned and followed Alec to a pile of boxed-up and move-ready items.

Inside one was a whole host of terrifying late-pregnancy and early-infanthood items that James had seen in Q’s pregnancy book of nightmares but hadn’t wanted to think about too closely.

“Maybe later.” James mumbled hurriedly and pushed the boxes out of the way. It wouldn’t do Q any good right now to see that sort of thing when Blasty was still so silent.

“Yeah, yeah I thought so. I can burn them if you like?” James shook his head, they’d need them eventually, which was frightening enough of a prospect, but a lot more welcome than the alternative of not needing them any more. “Or I could make up a nest? Or cook some dinner?” Alec sounded casual, but James could read in his face the desire to stay, to protect them both, to mingle and re-bond with his pack.

“Actually,” there was the sound of footsteps from the kitchen and both alphas looked up to see a teary-eyed Q meandering out with the wall for support. The omega glanced up at Alec and composed his face minutely.

“Thank you.” With that he turned and James watched him disappear into the bedroom. Through the open door he could make out his mate crawling into bed and bundling the covers up over himself into a cocoon.

Although he was crying, James could also smell the sleepy relief under his fatigue at the scent of their bed.

Alec looked as if he was fighting hard to resist the urge to go and build a nest around Q. James might well let him, but he got the impression that Q wanted a bit of space for the first time in days, now that he was somewhere where he could feel safe.

Instead he headed over to the kitchen, where Q had evidently found reason to thank Alec for something specific. The other alpha followed him.

On the table Blasty’s growth chart sat, fully updated to yesterday, with neat, if slightly uneven, lines in Alec’s penmanship. There was also a signed note saying who had updated the days, and even a little smiley face.

“Yeah, uh, I hope that was okay, I thought it would be better than coming back to a blank space…”

James and Alec didn’t hug often, but now he pulled the other alpha into a gruff embrace, returned without even a chuckle of breaking the moment.

“Just let me know what you need. Both of you. Seriously James, we’re family, alright?”

“You’ve got that damn right.” James growled back fondly, and clapped Alec on the back before releasing him. “And same to you, by the way. After tonight, you can come round and make Q as many nests as you want.”

That got Alec grinning, and he nudged a foot against James’ with a bark of laughter.

“You wait, I’ll have you out of your own bed next.”

“I think I can defend my own bed from the likes of you. Besides, I’ll have you know that Q and I built our first nest together a few weeks back.” James’ proud statement was ruined with Alec’s disbelieving laugh.

“A few weeks ago! You’ve been mated for nearly two years!” Alec shook his head despairingly and gestured James over to the TV.

“Come on, I’ll show you something to impress your omega with.”

“I impress him plenty.” James retorted petulantly, moving to pull the bedroom door to slightly so as to not disturb Q unduly whilst being able to keep an ear out for him.

“Well not like this.” He flickered on the TV and fiddled with the settings. Apparently he had become more than competent over the last few days with Q’s complex system that allowed you to access anything, anywhere, anytime. James suspected Alec had forgone his flat to simply live here. The idea was actually a bit comforting.

“Right, what do you want to start with; _Ready Steady Nest_ , _Let’s Get Nesting_ , _Master Nest_ or _Nestbusters_?

“Good God.”

James was starting to think that maybe Alec had a small obsession.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THEY'VE LEFT THE HOSPITAL!!! In my plans, it _never_ took that long! ':D
> 
> This chapter felt quite rich in interactions, so I hope it wasn't too much. I found some of it a bit challenging, so hopefully it came across okay, if not, let me know and I shall pen it away for the future.  
> This is the first big speech from John, Sherlock, and M... so it seems like a lot!  
> But hopefully some issues are laid to rest and you enjoyed the M/Villiers backstory (Milliers? Malliers? Maniel? There has to be a name somewhere xD)
> 
> Oh as a final note/ **Important News** , before I natter your ears off (now when have I ever done that?...) I apparently now have a tumblr :s  
> ...I'm not really sure how to work it, and it is also currently absolutely empty and devoid of everything except a background I made. But! If you're interested, check over the next few days, I'll probably use it for other story snippets, and most importantly, I plan to put up the VMW Young Holmes Extras that I've written! (that's actually he name of the file on my laptop, because I'm inspired) As they're not quite finished/in any order yet I thought that would be a fun place to put them for your delectation in the meantime and see what the general consensus is, any critique is greatly appreciated n_n
> 
> If anyone is interested, here she blows: http://shadyquiet.tumblr.com/
> 
> Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed! :3
> 
> Ps. This may be my favourite chapter ending since No. 1, hope you all recognise the TV shows! For any non-Brit readers, feel free to invent your own nesting equivalents... (I wanted to do ' _Who Wants to be a Nest-illionaire!_ ' but It seemed unreasonable xD)


	29. H0: The necessity of nests; H1: Nests are a necessity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry this is late guys, I had 3 days of training for my job in London, so as you can imagine: hectic!  
> This one's long though, and more of a pick me up, so I hope you all enjoy despite lateness n_n

James had been stuck in fire fights, shoot outs, stake outs, been tortured and hunted and lectured with the man… But he had never been more grateful for Alec’s presence at his side than in those first few days home with Q.

His mate was a mess, easily exhausted and barely focused when he wasn’t asleep, which was most of the day. Q would emerge from his various and inexplicably numerous cocoon-like nests from time to time to attempt to keep house, himself, or James.

It was a little unnerving, to be suddenly presented with burnt toast, a half-made cup of coffee, or be wrapped into a duvet whilst wearing a suit. But apparently that was what Q thought he needed. Omega ancestors alone knew why.

Q didn’t speak much, nor did he smile, cry, laugh… Those were the things James wanted, needed, that and to just hold him close, constantly. Q wasn’t obviously averse to closeness, quite the opposite he swiftly became a limpet, but nothing seemed to make much difference to the omega’s state of mind. That, and he got fidgety out of nest.

Oh and Alec? He was the one _making_ the nests.

For some reason the other Alpha could just manage them in a way James couldn’t. Alec would somehow manage to weave together a human sized cone of soft things, which managed to stay upright, whilst Q showered or slept. He would then usher the omega into these contraptions, and some of the lingering scent of Q’s distress would diminish as it otherwise only did inside James’ arms.

Truth be told, James was a touch jealous of his friend’s ability.

Tuesday morning, therefore, James woke before Q, who was latched onto his waist, and after gently detaching him, proceeded to try and pile a nest around the pair of them, stretching the blanket over the top of the wall.

It sort of caved in, and was a little stifling. After a minute of overheating both mates roused and struggled free. Q sat up amidst the mess of throw pillows and duvets with ruffled hair, blinking in confusion. Slowly, James watched Q turn to him, looking entirely puzzled and slightly concerned.

“I wanted to surprise you.” James admitted, a touch embarrassed at his below-par nesting skills. Q’s eyes softened, and he slid across the bed into James’ arms and tucked his head under the alpha’s chin, kissing his neck.

“You did.” Q murmured, and James stiffened slightly in surprise at the smile he could hear there. Leaning a little, he caught the small corners of it lifting Q’s mouth before the younger man settled more comfortably against him, clearly happy to not move for a while.

More relieved than he could say at Q’s smile, and feeling a hum of pleasure that he could create it, James settled in for another lazy morning, kissing Q’s hair as he did.

 

-00Q00-

 

“James,” It was late, Alec was out getting some of the amazing casserole that one of his women over in the fancy part of London made him once a month. James was looking forward to it; he’d had the honour of trying before.

He looked over the side of the couch to where Q had silently materialised from, his shuffling gait so slow and quiet that he became almost cat-like. The omega was pulling the long sleeves of one of James’ jumpers over his hands, no shoes or socks, but he was wearing familiarly worn dark jeans, slightly faded with age.

“Can we go outside tonight?” There weren’t many lights on in the room, but even in the dim Q’s expression looked a little…wrong.

“Where do you want to go?” James asked instead of outright answering.

“Just…somewhere, anywhere.” Frowning the alpha stood, Q worried him by looking away, shoulders drooped and head ducked. Clearly he wasn’t comfortable.

“What’s wrong?” Q stared out the window without really seeing it.

“Don’t know, nothing, I just…wanted to, we don’t have to.” Q turned and only James’ gentle hands managed to stop him.

“Q, talk to me, what’s going on?” James asked, voice steady and quiet, ducking till he could meet Q’s eyes. There was hardly any colour in them, in his face.

It was a long time before Q whispered worriedly, near silently and in the direction of the wall ‘I feel bad…”

“Bad how, love?” Behind them the door rattled and opened.

“Honeys I’m home!” James raised a single finger in Alec’s direction and effectively halted his friend in silent communication. He could feel the frowned scrutiny on the pair of them from the other alpha.

“It’s okay, James, it doesn’t matter.” Q whispered, eyes closing and leaning into his mate instead. James caught Alec’s questioning frown over his head and gently pulled Q away after a moment.

“Wait, will the park do?” Q blinked up at him, at the sight of his red-rimmed eyes James realised that he’d been crying. It made him feel bad, but he was glad too. Any move towards emotions had to be a positive step forwards, away from the dissociation.

“Yes.” James smiled at the answer.

“Okay, then let’s go to the park. That’ll keep in the oven right?” James asked Alec of the casserole.

“Yeah, no problem.” Alec replied, and moved to set it away. “You want to go alone or…” James turned back to his mate.

“Q?”

“C-can I sit next to you?” A spike of concern flashed through him, he didn’t know if Q was worried about something or just not entirely lucid, as with the burnt toast and half-coffee.

“Yes.” James answered simply. “I’d love you to.” Apparently he’d said something right, although for the life of him he couldn’t imagine why Q felt the need to ask, the omega made a near-silent noise and nuzzled into his neck firmly.

After a few minutes, with the casserole settled, Q put on some shoes and the two alphas bundled him in a coat and scarf. The extra layers were swiftly shed and Q carried them along in at least some semblance of independence.

The park wasn’t a terribly long walk away. Through and over the trees you could see the night-lights of London attempting to shed bright flares of colour on the dark clouds above.

Q picked a spot seemingly at random, a few other people and a mini food market nearby along one of the paths. Pausing in a large area of grass Q sat down, laid back and sighed contentedly, arms stretched out to either side. James watched him closely, noting the small half-smile on his face as the slightly blue-tinted-brown eyes gazed up at the sky.

“Please enjoy yourselves.” The two alphas looked at each other in surprise for a moment. “There’s drinks, and food probably.” Q continued, making a minute wriggle as he settled into the grass.

“Q-“ The omega closed his eyes with a breath and managed to meet their eyes in turn.

“You’re both being wonderful, so enjoy yourselves, please, at least for a while. Since I can’t help with that much myself.”

The meaning of Q’s earlier statement of ‘I feel bad’ became clear. James tried to smother his immediate reaction of regret that Q was even worrying about this right now, but then he never had wanted James to be caged, even right from the beginning. Alec looked ready to protest but James put a hand on his arm and turned him away.

“Start queuing for some drinks, get something fun for Q too.” James cued, and Alec nodded without question, though he kept an eye on the two of them as he left. James returned to Q’s side, where the man had his eyes closed again, and knelt down so that he could kiss Q’s forehead.

“You don’t need to worry about me, you know. It’s you I want to spend time with, and Alec of course.” Q’s smile was a bit wider, if a little amused.

“I’m hardly good company, and as much as misery loves a crowd, I’d rather you be happy.”

“…Just as long as you’re happy.” James reminded. Q looked back up at him.

“However happy I can be, I am, with you.” James traced his hand idly. “So go on, please. Nature is meant to be relaxing.” James had the impression that with Q’s little gifts the omega had been trying to dote on him. Misplaced as it was right now.

“Okay, I will. We’ll just have a drink and enjoy the outdoors.” Q smiled with some fond amusement, like he knew James was trying to make the best of a less-than-ideal situation, but appreciated the effort.

“Thank you.”

James stood and walked halfway to where Alec was, still on the grass, he kept an eye on Q until the other blonde came back with the drinks.

“Gotta say mate, this is out of my range of expertise.” Admitted Alec, James just shook his head.

“Its not an omega thing, its just Q.” Alec eyed him.

“Wow, you two have a fucking weird relationship.”

“Oi!” James chided with a laugh, elbowing Alec as the man laughed.

Turning back to Q, who James had struggled to be even this far from, he saw his mate pointing up at the partially clouded sky and talking slowly, other hand resting on his belly. The sight brought a warm wave of relief and hope to James.

If Q was talking to Rumbles, he was definitely getting better. If it took going out to parks and eating burnt toast, James would do it without blinking.

They settled down beside Q, James keeping his promise to be beside the omega. The soft murmuring about not star-constellations alone, but also cloud formation and the different lights visible to them, continued with only a pause to smile at James’ similar expression.

“Here Q, ‘fraid there weren’t any virgin cocktails, but they had Coke.”

“Cheers,” Q responded calmly, and clinked bottles with Alec in a habitually British manner, continuing to point around the sky with bottle in hand.

“And that there’s a cumulonimbus, they make precipitation-“

“Rain, he means rain.” Alec interrupted cheekily. James laughed as Q glared before continuing his pseudo-physics lesson.

“Yes yes, it’s a rain could, all big and fluffy like a marshmallow.”

“Or candyfloss.” Alec added.

“Or candyfloss.” Q agreed.

“Or whipped cream.” James put in with a grin.

“Or whipped cream. Or meringues, or…”

“A pillow fight!” James looked over to Alec.

“It does not look like a pillow fight.” Alec glared back.

“Oh yeah? Well then what’s your great idea?”

“I was going to say a pile of laundry.” Q burst out into a short, surprised laugh, breathing out with a smile. The sound seemed to fill James’ chest.

“Well, according to your dad and uncle Alec it looks like a pillow fight with the laundry, but you don’t have to worry, it looks like normal cloud as well.”

Together the three of them sat until the bottles were empty and the chill had creped into all of them. James was struggling not to break the moment by forcing Q home and into bed, but they left before his instincts could take over too fiercely.

Q at least surrendered placidly to Alec’s offer to give him a piggyback back. The trio wavered around like drunkards and kept up a running commentary/banter with Blasty as the unwavering support to all of their arguments.

“Of course Blastles sides with me! I’m his uncle; that makes me the cool one who brings home gifts and expensive presents.” Alec seemed to have happily bastardised ‘Blasty’ and ‘Rumbles’ together to make ‘Blastles’. The kid was going to have an identity crisis before he was born at this rate.

“Don’t listen to him little love, I’m the one who will build you personalised presents from scratch… as long as you’re into electrical devices. Even if not, I can work with it.” Q sounded so almost-normal that James couldn’t keep the grin off his face.

“Well, pup, I’ll be the one giving you unconditional love whilst you two are off swanning about in labs or other countries.” James announced smugly to a rising clamour of protests and accusations of ‘not fair!’

Their flat was filled with pleasant chatter and Alec dealt out some casserole whilst James put Q on the couch and forbade him to get up with a grin. Q’s face was flushed with the cold from outside and mirth, but James didn’t want to push that into a fever from over exertion.

James set himself in the middle of the sofa whilst they ate, Alec sprawling in all manner of directions lazily and Q languidly making extra room for James before leaning on him contentedly.

The BBC had some episodes of Black Adder playing, which then drove Q to dig up a series called Black Books, which James thought would accurately describe his own mental health were he to live in a normal profession. Until one point-

“Does that doctor look like Watson to you?” James asked, sharply. Q frowned.

“No, No I’m sure it can’t be.” Other than the look-a-like, the program was a bit of a laugh, although the first episode did include a birth, which at least Alec had the guts to blurt out ‘Christ Q’ in the middle of to alleviate the tension.

“Let me know when you go into labour, I’ll order you the good pain killers.” The alpha insisted.

“No fear.” James replied, he had already been thinking heavily on the topic himself. He knew without a doubt that he would actively despise hearing Q scream in pain, no matter the benign reasoning.

“Yes, well,” Q flustered, blushing a little and clearing his throat.

It was late by the time Q stood a little stiffly and went to the bathroom. He came back with an alarming amount of bedding and organised the two alphas to a side of the corner sofa each. There, with Alec grinning and James smiling bemusedly, Q started ensconcing them in varying soft items. Large pillows propped and supported and cosified the area on the sofa and the corner of floor in between. James was impressed when he felt comfortable and not smothered by the arrangements, and really rather sleepy.

Alec looked like he might stat purring at any given moment.

With a final huff of satisfaction and tired wobble, Q curled himself up between them on the floor nest and went out like a huddled light. Once sure his mate was sleeping, James glanced drowsily over at Alec.

“Give him a minute to fall under, then you can go use the bathroom if you…” Across from him, Alec was already passed out, mouth open and looking ready to start snoring any moment.

James wanted to laugh, but found himself falling off to sleep instead, surrounded by affection and the calming scents of his bite-sized and growing pack.

 

-00Q00-

 

In the cold light of day, Q could admit he might have overdone it last night. He didn’t regret going to the park, James and Alec’s laughter was enough to remind him how glad he was of the moment. But now everything ached and pounded and Q was quite happy just to stay lying down with the blanket over his head as the two alphas rambled around in the background.

He’d nearly dropped off to sleep again when the duvet was drawn back and faint grey light of autumn in the mornings flooded into his cocoon. With a noise of protest Q turned his face into a cushion and tried to pretend it didn’t make him dizzy.

“Love? You need to take your pills, then you can sleep again.” That did sound like a good idea. Q extended a hand and hastily swallowed down the pills as best he could. Apparently that wasn’t quite enough for James, who rolled him despite grumbles and got a cup of tea down him.

Q could barely remember drinking it, and was fairly sure he dosed off half way through. Alec was supporting his other side against the sofa when he came round again, James holding his face carefully and looking worried.

“-If you don’t feel okay.” Q was pretty sure he missed something there.

“What?” He mumbled, hardly feeling the pinnacle of intelligence. James seemed to give up on asking whatever he originally had.

“Come on, I’m taking you to bed.” Q might have laughed if he didn’t feel so terrible. As it was the idea of movement worried him and left him a little nauseous. He shook his head, mouth shut against possible tea rejection, and began making a slow decent back to floor level. Several hands tried to stop him.

“Sleep here.” Q managed by way of explanation. “S’fine.” James came back into his fuzzy vision.

“I can carry you, Q, its not a problem, you don’t even have to walk.” Q tried shaking his head but apparently the two alphas decided to take matters into their own hands.

Q could only make aggrieved noises and squirm pointlessly as Alec eased him into James’ arms. He stopped fighting when airborne, faintness lured away his mind and strength anyway and left him feeling like something dangling on the end of a fishing line.

Really, the constantly willing contact of both alphas was doing more to ease his dissociative state than he could comprehend, but right now, he really just wanted the room to stop tilting.

Even the bed was on a ridiculous angle and Q clung to it and breathed heavily when laid down.

There were some other touches before the faint exhaustion won out and dragged him down to uneasy sleep.

 

-00Q00-

 

MI6 stared at him tall and mockingly. James had always loved the building and yet thought it pretentiously white at the same time. Today he felt positively sour towards the alabaster hued stone.

Maybe if it were yesterday he’d have been glad to get out of the house for a bit. But then Q had taken him and Alec out anyway, and he’d lost some of the pent up energy that had been massing since the hospital. He was especially loath to leave this morning, when Q was so clearly unwell and exhausted.

But Alec had assured James he would stay and take care of Q, who was sleeping anyway. And it was his recruits that were due for their reviews and interviews. James hadn’t wanted to miss it, he just wished that he could have left with Q in better health, himself in better spirits, and being sure that Q was actually aware he had gone somewhere.

Still, he was here now. And it felt like he’d been away for an eternity.

Of course, everything was still the same. He swung down by Q-Branch first and the entirety of the minions popped up like excitable meerkats. R came over looking eager until he clearly saw that Q wasn’t there as well.

“Double oh seven… we’re, we all want to send best wishes to Q.” R settled on, finally. James half had the urge to make a bad impression of himself by snarling away the comments. Did he really have to buoy up Q-branch’s moral as well as Q’s? But he didn’t have it in him to hate the minions. They were at least genuinely sympathetic looking.

“I’m sure he’ll be back in no time-“

“Is he alright?” Blurted out one impossible to pick out minion, followed by a chorus of similar well wishings and worries, some suggestions, and some who were simply asking if they could help in any way. James was torn between discomfort at the snooping and fondness for the loyalty of the minions to his mate.

“He’s getting better, just hold down the fort, alright?” There were a series of heartfelt and hurried nods and assents, some tears, and James made his excuses to leave.

Behind the closed door, he could hear R giving them a nice few sentences to buck up morale.

James reminded himself to ensure Q called branch to touch base as soon as he was able. A miserable Q Branch was not a thing he wanted to see in a hurry.

He turned to head off, spinning on the spot to see none other than the wheelchair-bound 005 rolling towards him.

“Braving the dangers were you?” Louis opened with, voice welcome and warm whilst his eyes appraised James with hidden sharpness.

“Something like that.”

“They’re a good bunch, bit overenthusiastic at times… I’m sure I’ve seen one of them with a Q shrine in her desk to all the previous quartermasters.” James barked out a laugh.

“For some reason, that doesn’t surprise me.” James nodded at his fellow ex-double oh. “You weren’t awake long before jumping back in.” Louis threw out another easy grin.

“Seemed like the right thing to do. Besides, you know how it is, you have the job and then, well, suddenly you don’t right? That’s no way to go.” James found himself nodding.

“Yeah, you know.” Louis confirmed for himself.

“Hey,” James reached over and clapped the beta’s shoulder. “I’m glad you’re going to be the one behind logistics, I still remember Bangladesh.” That got the man laughing, and James grinned. “And for that matter, now that we’re both on the desk jobs, maybe you can take a look at the new Double Oh recruit files, see if you think any are up to scratch. 005 groaned, but couldn’t hide the grin.

“Trevelyan warned me about your new job, give me strength.” The man chortled as he wheeled into Q branch through the sliding doors. James didn’t miss the way R’s eyes lit up when he saw the double oh agent.

Shaking his head with a quiet laugh, the alpha continued up towards the interview floors.

Amidst the strictly bland coloured walls and floor along the corridor, there was a single splash of colour from Moneypenny’s green hued ensemble for the day.

“Double oh seven,” She greeted with a smile, and kissed his cheek when he got close enough. “How are you, okay?”

“Shouldn’t we go in?” James gestured at the door, behind which his recruits were no doubt sitting. Eve’s smile would have frightened small children.

“I like to make them wait, gets them to sweat it out a little bit.”

“Of course you do.” He replied back, amused and not surprised in the least. Eve’s smile dropped after a moment, an earnest expression crossing her face.

“So, talk to me. How are you two? M practically forbade me from appearing at the hospital.” James sighed, tried to get to the door and was blocked off with a little trilling ‘ah-ah!’ and sharp glance. Recognising that she wasn’t going to let him past without answers, the agent gave in reluctantly.

“He’s up and down, do we have to do this now?”

“Are you going to let me do this later? Alternatively I could just come over.”

“…Fine. Come over on the weekend.” James grumbled. He wasn’t actually angry with Eve; he just wanted to get the day started so he could focus on that until he could go back to Q.

Eve stepped aside, but paused James with a hand on his arm when he went for the door.

“James, he is getting better, right? He’s okay?” James looked back at her, and could see the concern plainly in her eyes.

“He’s getting there, but it will take a while… You have to be gentle with him.” Eve smiled softly.

“Whenever am I not?”

“You know what I mean.” James growled slightly. Moneypenny was an alpha female and a lioness through and through, and he didn’t know if she was just too much for Q to handle right now. Hell, the omega was probably only doing so well with both James and Alec because they were practically brothers and more than happy to laze about when not required to be energetic. Like a pair of great ruddy cats sometimes.

“I know, I just want to see him, I’m worried about him.” James took a deep breath, attempting to curb his protective instincts. Besides, unless she was armed, he could probably take Moneypenny out without too much fuss.

“Alright, the weekend then.” Eve smiled beatifically and turned to open the door for him.

James schooled his already calm features and took pleasure from sinking into his 007 state of mind. There was, after all, something relaxing and satisfying about performing the job he’d done for decades. Without another doubt, he stepped into the room with his five mission-hardened recruits.

 

-00Q00-

Rain pattering against the window woke Q up. For a moment he lay there, listening to it and cataloguing his surroundings. James wasn’t there, was he in the house? Q felt a little more stable right now, but given the darkening grey clouds outside he had been asleep for quite a while.

 _James_. The thought snagged his mind loosely in a noose and pulled him out of bed.

Q pushed himself into James’ closet slowly and curled up there in a space between the shoes, closing his eyes as he pulled the doors shut behind him.

Nesting was a curious thing, in that it was immensely calming for no reason Q had ever been able to pinpoint directly.

It also seemed to make him crave the strangest places that would in no way be socially acceptable for, say, an alpha or beta to go to.

Q wasn’t quite sure how long he sat there calmly in the dark, idly stroking his stomach, but he managed to exchange his clothes for some of James’ during the time.

He was only made aware of the world outside once again when the bedroom door opened, the sound of it’s swing brushing against the carpet heralded a few curious footsteps.

Feeling absurdly protected in James’ clothes closet, Q wasn’t unduly worried, and a sniff told him it was Alec.

“Q?” The alpha had turned to head to the bathroom by the sound of it.

“I’m in here.” Alec’s movements paused and he came over, hand resting on the wood just hard enough to make Q deliberately aware of his presence.

“This one?”

“Yes.”

“…It smells like James.” Alec commented. Q thought that much was plainly obvious, and rather the whole point, so he didn’t respond. “Can I come in?” Q curled deeper into the large jumper, his fingers poking out the end of the dark material.

“It’s a bit small.” He replied, apologised, deterred… he wasn’t quite sure.

“…I can make you a big nest, if you like.” Q had felt guilty at first and hugely indebted to Alec for spending so much time here with him and James. He hadn’t wanted the man to feel compelled, despite how appallingly obvious it was that the omega himself couldn’t take care of his mate. His recent attempts with coffee and toast had been evidence enough of his failings in that regard.

But, Alec seemed to enjoy the act of nest-making almost more than Q did, who needed them but had never been particularly talented.

It seemed that he could at least show his gratitude by accepting all nesting proposals with grace, even if it did mean leaving James’ cupboard. To be fair, James might think Q needed to go back to the hospital it he came home to find his mate in a closet. The omega hadn’t even bothered building a nest, simply sitting there… Although even as the thought occurred Q became aware he was slowly pulling one of his alpha’s jackets down to puddle on his lap.

Apparently in his daze he’d also shuffled his feet into a pair of slippers and pulled on a pair of jeans to act as a scarf.

Probably for the best if no one knew about this, ever.

“I’d like a big nest.” Think of all the James and clothes he could fit in it? Alec too, there’d be room for an Alec. And little Blasty… Tears tugged at him. “I’ll be out in a minute.” He managed in a fairly respectable voice.

“Alright dove.” Alec tapped the closet and then walked out the room with more intend footsteps.

Q gave himself a minute to calm, another minute to indulgently rub his face into the accumulated clothes and drink in the scent, and then a final minute to put everything back and exit the closet.

Leaving reminded him of the fact that James wasn’t here, or in the flat, obviously. Hugging his stomach a little, Q went in the direction of Alec’s shuffling and bedding fluffing noises in the living room.

“There you are.” Alec greeted him, wearing that same slightly toned-down smile that he seemed to reserve for Q or when James was hurting. Q looked around as the alpha continued his work, confirming the unfortunate lack of James.

“Where’s James?”

“MI6, Eve called this morning, his agents are finally ready for their final assessments.”

“Oh.” Q stood there, staring towards the door, picturing the event in his mind just so he could imagine the range of expression on James’ face. He wondered if it was decided already, was James excited? Proud? Nervous? Q wanted to be there for him, or at least just a short lift ride away in Q-Branch.

“Hey, Q.” Q startled a little to oh so gentle hands on his arms. Alec was frowning at him slightly. “You were away with the fairies for a moment.”

“Oh.” Q repeated the same response as earlier in a rather poor attempt at human interaction. Alec squeezed his arms very slightly and rubbed for a moment.

“Come on,” He eased Q forwards a little, towards the foundations of a nest he’d made using the corner sofa and coffee table to form a nearly enclosed space. “I’ve got big plans for this one, I think you’ll like it.”

Q thought he probably would too, given that Alec seemed to be God’s gift to nest construction.

“It’s meant to be a relaxation nest.” He brought Q around and encouraged him to lie down on some cushions the omega was sure weren’t his own… In fact, when Q examined more closely, he saw it was one giant long pillow, big enough to be over half his size when doubled up. Q blinked up at Alec, who grinned and pulled the thing’s end so that it went under Q’s head, gently eased Q’s stomach to prop up on it. It was still long enough that it stretched down his back and front to reach mid-thigh.

“It’s a pregnancy pillow, friend of mine found it in no time- no, here, just rest.” Q had begun propping himself up, wanting to examine it curiously, maybe take it apart, but Alec coaxed him back down, helping Q settle into the material. “There now, nice and cosy-Q.” The quartermaster couldn’t rustle up more than a ruffled pout if Alec’s laugh was anything to go by, instead he was busy not-snuggling into the curious material… It almost felt like memory foam, but infinitely better.

“That’s good Q.” Alec mused, gently stroking over Q’s belly before standing.

Q may actually be in omega heaven. He had James’ scent from the jumper, a huge pillow that smelled faintly of Alec, and an alpha building a nest around him with incredible attention to detail and comfort.

Pillows were moulded and blankets coated them until Q was surrounded by a fluffy mound of security, and as a final piece Alec draped the warmest, most feather-stuffed duvet over Q, but within the pillow-wall confines.

It nearly covered his head as well, and by nudging down Q could create the effect of total concealment, the dark cover on the duvet helping to create a calming atmosphere.

Truly, he was so overwhelmed with the nesting that he could barely talk. When Alec climbed inside, sitting propped against the pillow wall and draping his legs over Q’s, it was nearly perfect.

Not quite prefect because James wasn’t with them.

“Easy Q.” Alec soothed as the omega shifted a bit in the absence of mate. The gentle pressure through the duvet on the back of his neck was just on the right side of pressure, Alec familiar enough that the move rendered him calm rather than on edge at another alpha making a dominating move with him in such a vulnerable position.

But the fact was really that he trusted Alec, and James trusted Alec, and so Q let himself be calmed, the pressure easing into a brief massage before Alec let go. The alpha shifted comfortably, and the homeliness of the gesture; relaxed and pack-like, sent Q back into nest-contentment…

Of course, that was when Alec had to go and dot droplets of that infuriatingly amazing omega-calm oil-plant-thing all around the nest, leaving Q moaning and nuzzling into the pillows like a cat.

Q didn’t even notice James coming home until the man playfully wriggled his way into the nest, under the duvet and cocooned the omega with his limbs.

The quartermaster may have behaved like he was on heat, without the sexual desire, thankfully, and made some mewling noises that he would later blush remembering as he absolutely-snuggled into his chuckling mate.

 

-00Q00-

 

Q stared at the screen before him. This morning he’d had another check-up over at the hospital. Everything had been stable, fine, improving slowly. The slightly shifting form of Blasty present and accounted for. James was relieved. Q was too; the visual was all he had left to act as confirmation. At the same time, he had hoped to be feeling something again by now, flutters at least.

It was starting to creep up on him again. Because whilst logic told him that everything Dr. Darcy was saying was true, his heart agonised over how this could possibly indicate health. The niggling anxieties he had kept at bay were gnawing at the back of his mind and itching under his skin.

The laptop was a resort at distraction. And it had worked, for a bit. James was back in MI6 and Alec had gone off to do Alec-y things for a bit. So Q had e-mailed his branch and begun to idly sort through responses and issues whilst sitting in bed. Just trying to take his mind off things for a while.

The problem was his continuing fatigue left him incapable of much. He’d done the necessary arm exercises and the hospital trip had involved walking. Even that pathetic amount of activity left him in his own little world for a time whilst ambling fingers over the keys of his laptop.

As it stood, Q managed to work his way through a couple of hours before exhausting himself mentally as well as physically.

Another nest was probably in order, but Q had been spoilt with so many recently that anything he could make right now seemed entirely lack lustre by comparison. Still, one had to maintain some semblance of normalcy and standard.

Rolling off the bed Q padded around slowly, throwing a couple of items of bedding on the floor; notably Alec’s long pillow. Job done, Q slumped down into the simple pile by the couch and blinked around the room.

He’d miss this flat, but he was glad they would be packing and moving over the next week or so. He was ready to let this place go, take what they loved and move on.

Hopefully, just hopefully, Blasty would be moving again by then, so that they could all move in together properly.

With a melancholy frown, one hand on his belly petting slightly, Q closed his eyes and let himself drift off to sleep.

What seemed like seconds later a loud _bang_ and shout sent Q jolting nearly out of the nest. The floor reverberated with thuds and growls and incomprehensible shouts until Q forced a blanket off himself and lurched upright.

Impossibly, whilst scrambling up onto the sofa and out of the way, Q identified the blurry figures as Alec and _Sherlock_ grappling with each other, power verses wiry frame.

“I wont leave until I’ve seen-get _off_ me you great brute!” Alec grunted as Sherlock managed to kick him in the shoulder and lunged back with furious intensity and a protective growl, putting himself obviously between the beta and Q and moving with lethal intent. Sherlock was good, but he was in no way that good.

“Double oh six _stand down_!” Q ordered sharply, a touch frantically, and Alec stopped moments before his elbow would have connected with Sherlock’s throat. Both remained tense on the floor and panting.

“Hello Aster.” Sherlock called jovially, though his eyes didn’t leave Alec’s still hard ones.

“Q, you better tell me why I’ve stopped right the fuck now…”

“Brother, he’s my brother.” Q enforced hastily, moving off the sofa and up beside Alec at a safe distance. “Aster is my birth name, and I should hope I don’t have to swear you to secrecy over that.” The stern voice seemed to finally relax Alec minutely to the situation. But nonetheless it was in mere seconds that the alpha had gathered Q up to herd him back into the nest, pulling a blanket over his head to gently force him into lying down.

“Will you stop touching my little brother-“ Alec growled and Q tried to force himself free but failed when the agent smooshed another duvet over him. The hands on him remained protective. Alec was guarding him, literally giving Q his back, left arm twisted awkwardly to rest on Q’s shoulder to keep him hidden and huddled.

 _This is ridiculous_. Q thought as he squirmed ineffectively, the situation was absurd. He was being guarded from his own brother in his own house by an alpha that wasn’t his mate and had no reason to distrust Sherlock with this level of severity. Other than the fact that Q was vulnerable and nesting and had clearly been sleeping throughout most of their interaction…

Really, it was a little bit flattering, truth be told.

“Its fine, Sherly, just give it a moment?” Q requested, hearing the beta huff at his brother’s muffled ‘soppy and submissive’ attitude towards alphas, towards anyone. Sherlock hadn’t seen him at work, of course.

But equally as flattering as Alec, was the fact that Sherlock had attempted –again- to get through an alpha, to _actively attack_ one, to protect Q. Sherlock was no light weight when it came to fighting, he was intelligent enough to read moves and body language and competent and gutsy enough to act on what he saw. But still, there was a reason people avoided fighting an alpha, let alone one as spine-chillingly dangerous as a double oh.

Even if you didn’t know an agent was in your midst, there was a certain feeling up the back of your neck the instant one of them froze or you became the focus of their intensity.

So, yes, astoundingly flattering, really.

“Alec?” There was a grunt, Sherlock had moved off to bang pots around in the kitchen. “It really is alright you know, he’s not a threat.”

“No offense, but I’ve heard things about your family Q.”

Damn. Well, that would explain a lot. It wasn’t like Alec to attack point-blank for no reason.

“Give him a chance, Alec, he deserves one… Please, he’s human too.” The alpha huffed at his words, recognising their exchange from weeks ago after the incident with M.

“What’s he like? He smells disgusted…and a little like a morgue.” Alec bartered with, not a yes to lowering hostilities, but some sort of concession.

“He was given rather just and thorough cause to dislike alphas early on in life, and since then has tried to interact with as few as possible in order to never change his mind… Egotistical, like all of the three of us-“

“You’re pretty small for an egotist.” Q didn’t really know what to make of that comment. He had grown closer to Alec than he ever thought possible when the man was an incorrigible annoyance that kept grinning at him in Q-Branch like a baboon eager for violent weaponry and teasing the omega’s limits. Maybe the same had become true for Alec. The omega managed to snake his hand out of the blankets to grip Alec’s, who gripped back but also moved their hands so that Q was once again entirely under cover.

“There’s a lot to him that nobody bothers to really see, or they’re not shown. But he just attacked you to make sure I was okay… You might have more in common than you think… And, he might appreciate it, a little kindness I mean.” Alec’s hand stilled on his own at the stuttered sentence.

“You didn’t nest when you were younger, did you.” It wasn’t really a question, but Q answered it regardless.

“No.”

“And him?”

“He didn’t do much natural behaviour he should have been allowed to either.”

“And your other brother?”

“…He had to do too much.” Alec’s hand left his and stroked up Q’s arm absently, its owner thoughtful.

Some footsteps and an annoyed exhale through the nose announced Sherlock’s return.

“Aren’t you finished yet? I’ve made food.” The stubborn announcement made Alec snort and Q was gradually uncovered from the tangle of bedding. He moved to sit up, hair feeling particularly ridiculous and re-positioning his hastily grabbed glasses. Sherlock looked tense, as if he wanted to come closer but was holding himself back. Q glanced at Alec to confirm the alpha was now mostly relaxed and watchful rather than ready to jump into a possessive fight, and pushed himself up slowly.

Sherlock nearly grabbed him when he was close enough, and Q could see the tight lines of irritation at the charade and stress from the presence of a violent alpha.

It hit rather hard that other than the drugs, Q hadn’t really considered the long-term effects of their childhood on Sherlock, hadn’t thought how severe it might be in this way. At least Q had always spared himself the brunt of discipline by acquiescing to any and all orders and punishments… Sherlock had constantly fought back.

“Why don’t you sit, I’ll get the food.”

“That would defeat the purpose.”

“I’ll just follow you anyway… Your hair’s starting to grow back.” Q remarked as he followed his brother’s still tense shoulders to the kitchen. Sherlock had made tea and what looked like shredded crispy duck stir-fry, complete with noodles and some strange greens and beans Q hadn’t encountered before.

“The ingredients were hard to find, I had to go to one of your human supermarkets.”

“…You made me stir-fry.” Q wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but it hadn’t been this. Sherlock just rolled his eyes and gave him a harsh look.

“Just because Mycroft has been plying your favours with cake doesn’t mean it’s healthy. I’ve been doing some research-“

“Oh God.” At his words a strange little smile crossed Sherlock’s lips; blue-grey eyes meeting his brothers.

“You sound like John.” Q watched, a bit stunned, as his acerbic middle brother looked away, a tilt of endeared smile on his face at something reminding him of John.

“Wow,” Q mumbled thoughtlessly, and sharp eyes turned to him, swiftly glowering in defence.

“If you say anything, I’ll tell your mate and muscle bound alpha in there all about the year you ruined Christmas.” Q simply raised an eyebrow.

“…That was you.” Another scowl.

“I meant the year after that.”

“Still you.”

“Yes but it was your fault for getting sick.”

“You were the one who’d wanted to launch that boat we found onto the river in a piratical adventure, otherwise I wouldn’t have fallen in.”

“You were wriggling.”

“You were trying to get me to climb the mast!”

“Fine.” Sherlock snapped, turning back to the table, and beginning to doll out helpings, begrudgingly adding to a third plate when Q put one there.

“Anyway, its fine, good, really. I wouldn’t say anything.” Sherlock stilled slowly, tapping the spoon once on the bowl.

“He kissed me.” Q looked over, surprised again. Sherlock remained looking at the table and Q directed his gaze there instead, nearly overcome with curiosity. To his knowledge, Sherlock hadn’t been the slightest bit romantic with anyone at any stage in life.

“Did you kiss him back?” He asked, calmly. Sherlock wouldn’t bring something like this up without reason; that much he was sure of.

“…I think so. Yes. I did… He smiled.” Q found himself smiling too, both warmed and feeling a bit awkward at the bizarre twist his life had taken where he now listened to Sherlock’s intimacies.

“Did you like it?” Sherlock dropped the spoon.

“I didn’t understand it.”

“What part?”

“The _smile_. You do it, sometimes, when James kisses you, he does the same. Mummy did it to father, once. But why would John, I’m sure I was hardly competent enough to warrant the response.” Q nudged Sherlock’s shoulder slightly till he could briefly meet the beta’s hard eyes, and turned away again, resuming the sharing of food.

“He was happy, Sherlock, just happy.”

“But _why_ when the kiss-“

“The kiss didn’t have anything to do with it, it was the person kissing him.”

Sherlock’s mouth snapped shut and he didn’t respond to the sentence. After a few moments of silence Q spoke again.

“And if you were worried about the… uh… _quality_ of the kiss, well, you shouldn’t. That sort of thing tends to get better with practice and time, I mean.” Q assured, blushing slightly at the mild awkwardness of the situation. “And probably John would be more than happy to try again with you. If you wanted to.”

“…And if I didn’t.” Q read his brother with a sideways glance. Sherlock was uncomfortable, but not so much with the situation as with the thought that he might not be capable of more.

“If you don’t,” Q began slowly and firmly, “then I will love you regardless. And if you never do any more than kiss, or even anything more of that, then I’m sure John will continue to love you too in whatever way he chooses.” Sherlock tapped the table for distraction.

“And why would he do that.” Q breathed with an almost sad smile, able to feel the anxieties within his brother almost palpably. He looked back at the serving, evening up the three plates.

“Because you’re you, because he loves you for that and who you are, not whether you kiss him or not. And because there’s more than just one type of love in the world, and you’re entitled to all of it.” There was a moment of awkward silence between them, and then Sherlock almost impulsively turned and kissed Q’s hair chastely.

Ridiculously, Q felt himself beaming, their arms somehow becoming linked as they sorted out the soy sauce on the three dishes.

“Apparently you’re low on iron, and developing all the extra blood you need is hard work. Duck is rich in iron. The edamame is good for you, along with the broccoli, nuts, the Internet practically details what you should be eating each day. And there’s egg too. And red pepper…”

Q listened to Sherlock, rather frighteningly, describe the thought that had gone into this single meal, and knew he was trying to cover up a moment that the beta had never meant to happen… But it felt relaxed, close. Q smiled, able to forget momentarily about his own anxieties in the face of the sheer affection and hope he felt for the man next to him.

They ate back in the sitting room, where Q was sure Alec had been listening and obviously texting James whilst clearing up the rather splayed nest.

“Is it true you and your friend took on the Golem?” Alec asked as they sat down to eat, Sherlock blinked in surprise.

“Yes…” the suspicious answer was met by a grin.

“I ran into him a few months ago in Amsterdam, still had a tooth missing he’d never bothered to replace, probably turning it into a new battle scar.” Sherlock appeared unabashedly pleased with the information, and the tension evaporated gradually under conversations of travel and the merits of utilising underworld crime and street dwellers in cases and missions.

Both were still careful, but the laughter was increasing, the resentment dissipating.

Of course, Alec could charm fleas if he wanted to and Sherlock was remarkably easy to warm up with genuine praise. He also seemed thoroughly interested when Alec mentioned something about Q verbally battling 008 on a mission where the two agents were together in Spain. With the light of curiosity and new information in his eyes the beta proceeded to grill Alec as much as national security would allow about his younger brother, Q pinking between them at the intrigue and stories.

Alec, of course, was only too happy to share his amusing stories at the cost of Q’s embarrassment.

Q was saved when James came back, blinking slightly at the fact that Sherlock was clearly still there and was chortling in shared mischief with Alec… They had moved onto stories about both mates half an hour ago, and Q had just left them to it, really.

“Do I need to save you?”

“Yes please.” Q responded, but with a smile that James returned. They kissed and James raised an eyebrow as if to ask ‘what have you created’. Q responded with an expression that he hoped looked entirely innocent and proceeded to try and feed James the remains of his stir-fry portion, mindful that he couldn’t quite leap on the man and nuzzle into him whilst they had such company, regardless of how much he had missed his mate.

James ingratiated himself smoothly into the conversation, settling next to Q with an arm around him. The omega idly groomed James’ short hair for a bit, fighting back yawns, but soon the pleasant atmosphere, warm smell of his alpha and his own fluctuating fatigue caught up with him.

Q felt a warm hand on his stomach before he fell asleep against James’ shoulder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credit for the idea of how Sherlock and Alec meets goes to _Missthoseboys_ who's idea to have Alec nest-guarding Q from Sherlock was too good to pass up... hopefully it came over okay!
> 
> I know a lot of people had a lot of interest in these two meeting, so I hope you enjoyed...it accidentally turned into a bit of a Johnlock moment, but, in my mind, after initial drama Alec becomes fond of Sherlock (and maybe feels a bit protective of him too). That might come out more in the future, we'll see :)
> 
> I hope you enjoyed and thank you for reading! All the nest-show comments last week just gave me far too many ideas and made me laugh to myself at inappropriate moments, so cheers for the laughter pick-me-up!
> 
> BTW: 500+comments?!?! You guys are just unbelievably amazing!!! (I'm ignoring that half of them are my replies ;3)


	30. H0: Always trust to faith; H1: Always keep the hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is a bit late, again... hopefully you can forgive me, my days off aren't the same each week so following the schedule precisely is hard.  
> Also, I got bit by a dog this week... Woo. Deep, deep joy. So that didn't exactly speed things along.  
> I'm fine, I can still type! It simply mistook me for a lead it wanted to devour and grabbed my leg instead leaving me with a nice fist sized bruise and teeth scrapings. Delightful. The wonders of working with animals! But occasionally I get to hug puppies, so its all good.

The flat was a lot quieter now. Alec had been called away on a mission he couldn’t refuse in Louisiana, and Sherlock was working a case with John that required most of even his attention. James still heard and saw texts coming through from the detective to Q multiple times daily, but he hadn’t been back over.

On the weekend, they’d started packing. Eve had come over to help, thankfully. Q had been trying to assist, unable to simply watch his beloved home and belongings disappear around him, But James had forbidden him from working too much. On Saturday half an hour of boxing up odd bits and bobs had left the omega shaking and nearly catatonic with fatigue. James had bundled him off to bed with worried urgency.

He knew Blasty had yet to move, and that fact alone was more than enough for both alpha and omega to sequester Q to limited work. Once more recovered, Q had padded around making James drinks and snacks whilst he worked until the alpha was forced to nearly imprison him in the bedroom for his own nerves.

Q wasn’t really pushing himself, but James’ paranoia was reaching new levels.

Somehow it seemed like a failing, that he hadn’t managed to help Q recover enough yet to have Blasty recover enough for some rumbling activity. The agent knew he wasn’t at fault, but since when had his instincts been logical?

All he knew was that by Sunday, Q had tired himself out with another series of awful nightmares, and was having an incredibly frail day, tottering into rooms looking pale and wan, trembling. It was all James could do to coax him into sitting down because Q just wanted to be close to him in a rather haplessly instinctual manner. James was pretty sure Q had dissociated again, but had managed to get him into bed and asleep by the time Moneypenny showed up.

“Afternoon.” She greeted with a cheeky smile that seemed permanently fixed. James welcomed her in, apologising for the mess at he went.

Of course, Eve wanted to see Q immediately, but the alpha managed to discourage her given that the quartermaster was finally asleep.

“Not to worry, a girl knows how to wait. Need some help? You haven’t fitted that box very well for a start.” Eve criticised as she frowned at the offending box filled with James’ occasional souvenirs from missions. James smirked and cocked a curious eyebrow as she tutted and begun repacking the assorted items.

“I’d never have pegged you as a perfectionist packer.” Eve turned to smirk at him over her shoulder.

“You think it’s easy to pack shoes with poison-dart heels next to silk gowns?” Laughing a faint huff at the teasing, James settled back into pulling books off the shelves in the living room and packing them away. They chatted about MI6 and the five recruits –now wheedled down to three potential double oh’s- and onto Moneypenny’s woe-some love life at the moment.

He didn’t miss the way the female alpha kept looking wistfully at the doorway beyond where Q lay. Something that only got worse when she discovered Blasty’s growth chart on the table.

“Planning on robbing me of a mate are we?” James teased after the third time Eve referenced how lucky they were and how incredible it must be to be starting a family. The woman was younger than him, older than Q, and without a mate, not for lack of appeal and interest though. She was unfortunately unsubtle about her desire for one.

At his passing comment Eve threw him a sharp look, then sighed, eyes saddening as she toyed with the pile of laundered clothes she was packing ‘the right way’. With a determined breath she looked back up at him.

“You have no idea, how difficult it is to be a female alpha.” Bond wisely didn’t say anything; he knew enough to not antagonise the beast, instead slowing his hasty shovelling of the multitude of gifted ties and socks both he and Q had been offered over the years. Sometimes being a man had its curiosities and drawbacks too.

“There’s always that need to find someone to protect, and at the same time, I’ll always want to carry a child myself.” She gestured hopelessly, rueful smile on her face. “Sometimes its hell.” Bond smiled, continuing the dumping of paired socks into bin bags that Eve claimed she would donate to some charity.

“Come back and talk to me when you’ve found someone to carry your child, then you’ll know hell.” She fixed him with a teasing, unimpressed look, arms resuming their work.

“I’m not saying you have it easy, Bond, don’t be stupid. But at least you’ve always known what you wanted.” She sighed again with a self-admonishing breath and begun focusing on the work once more. “There’s nothing like knowing what you want.”

 _Indecision_ , a very ‘Moneypenny’ trait; whether to remain an agent, whether to find a mate…

“Do you have no preferences? Male? Female? A B O?” James quipped; earning a toothy smile that did wonders for the Eve’s previously maudlin expression.

“I have intimate knowledge of all of them. Whilst woman have their many and numerous benefits, I’m not entirely sure I’d be able to withhold jealousy on watching my mate be pregnant, though it depends on the person, of course.”

“And that’s what you want, then? To have children yourself?”

“Yes. Always have, really. Except I used to think I’d just find some gorgeous being in a foreign land, have a wildly passionate affair and return to happily never see him again. I’d be quite happy, you know, having a child on my own.”

“I don’t doubt you’d be capable…” James replied. Alpha females were the most likely of all the sexes and genders to refuse mates and raise their children alone, strong willed and almost lethally protective of their offspring. “But if you haven’t found that yet, maybe its not the only thing you want.” Eve looked at him shocked for a moment, interrupted from giving a response by a knock on the door. “Excuse me,” James said as he stood and moved to the door, sniffing as he went. “Do you mind grabbing some plates, I think that’s dinner.”

“Sure.” Eve pushed the last shirt in neatly, moment covered up, and went to the kitchen with fluid movements that James was slightly envious of.

The door revealed Mycroft, as predicted, and a couple of food packages. The alpha looked haggard under his appearance of control.

“Evening James, I trust you’re well.” James shook the man’s hand and let him in with critical eyes. Even the alpha’s voice was tense with underlying strain, and his eyes had flown instantly to the closed door of the bedroom where Q rested.

Of course, the man had only been able to visit the hospital a couple of times. For someone of Mycroft’s personality and tendency towards overbearing care, he must be struggling without having any contact with his youngest brother.

“Come in, cheers.” James greeted, taking the food with gratitude. Mycroft snapped out of his vaguely dazed gaze at the door, and James had never seen the alpha anything but sharp. With a rueful head shake Mycroft re-focused.

“My apologies. Long week.” He admitted, and James found himself shaking his head as he closed the door, nodding towards the bedroom.

“Q’s asleep, but go through to him if you like, just keep him lying down if you can, wasn’t a great night.” James suffered only a moment of indecision about entrusting Q’s safety and health to another. The instant Mycroft’s expression melted into nearly naked relief, he felt a bubble of satisfaction at having made the choice.

“Thank you, James, I will.” Mycroft nodded and headed off.

Eve poked her head curiously out of the kitchen the once the bedroom door opened and closed.

“Who is it?” Eve backed out the way to give James space for the food bags.

“The oldest brother.” Eve looked like the cat that was about to meet an untimely demise over curiosity.

“Really? How fascinating…” James looked at her a little worriedly.

“Play nice, Eve.”

“Who said anything about play?” Eve smirked right back. James felt a little bad for Mycroft. He had first hand experience, after all.

He wasn’t at all sure the other alpha could handle Eve.

 

-00Q00-

 

“Aster, wake up my little Star.” Q frowned and wormed his way deeper into the pillow, until Mycroft’s hand made its way into his hair and started rubbing with his fingertips.

“Mmmy,” Q half groaned, half questioned, pushing his head back into the touch with sleepy resignation of his weakness for such things. Above him, Mycroft huffed fondly, keeping up the massage indulgently.

“I came to see you.” Q cracked an eye open to meet his brother’s worn and softly affectionate smile. He looked tired. Q frowned, Mycroft so rarely let himself appear affected but his brain was taking a long time to engage itself. He made a soft noise of question.

“Oh Aster.” He barely caught the murmur, and Mycroft looked like he wanted to move closer, but wasn’t sure how.

“Wha’s wrong? My,” The alpha shushed him gently and then pulled up the blankets fussily, sitting beside Q’s head with one leg on the bed and one on the floor.

Really, even after a few weeks of vastly improved relationships with his brothers, the novelty and temptation of having them willingly be affectionate and close was too much to resist. In his sleepy state Q barely thought before he was rolling over into Mycroft’s surprised body. Tucking his face up against the warmth of his brother’s thigh Q shuffled his arms comfortably under the duvet till he was comfortably settled. Mycroft’s hands, which had lifted in surprise as he moved, resettled on his shoulder and around the back of his head slowly.

“No movement yet,” Mycroft reflected sadly, already knowing the answer, hand sliding down to rub the side of Q’s stomach. “I’m looking forward to meeting this little one when they decide to pop out.”

“Not much popping about it.” Q mumbled sleepily, rubbing harder into his brother’s soft-ish leg. “Rather more pain and screaming, I’ve heard.” The re-direction was partly to cover up the stab of grief he felt at the continued lack of movement. Mycroft seemed to notice anyway, of course.

“You will be fine. I will get you the very best doctors and equipment, nothing needs to hurt if you don’t want it to.”

It was such a wonderfully Mycroft thing, to comfort him with amenities rather than platitudes, that Q found it soothing all the same.

“Are you going to like being an uncle?” He asked, randomly, still not in complete awareness…in fact he was feeling increasingly sleepy. Mycroft’s scent wasn’t nearly as good as James’, of course, but it worked in its own contenting way.

“I don’t know yet… I enjoy being a brother, well enough. For all my sins.” In response Q made some unintelligent noise of disagreement and settled deeper into his brother’s hold, reaching through the blankets enough to poke him… and it still felt a bit weird, reprimanding Mycroft.

“This is nice, you’ll be fine… We’ll both be fine.”

“Aster you’ll be marvellous.” Mycroft corrected, and Q decided not to argue back… actually, it was almost as entertaining as it was sobering, that everyone in this enterprise, from his mate to his family and friends, knew absolutely nothing about stable relationships… Except for maybe Alec, but he got fire hazard points, so no one was perfect.

“I do hate seeing you like this… It reminds me of Mummy.” Q looked up sharply at that, frowning.

“Because she was sick?” He asked.

“All the time.” Mycroft confirmed. “For years. Since becoming pregnant with Sherlock… Well, a bit before that. But. Still. You remember the days she couldn’t get out of bed.” It was unlike Mycroft to stumble over words. He had had to live with Mummy’s sickness for a long time though. Q couldn’t remember a time when she wasn’t ill… but Mycroft must have had to watch her decline.

“I could barely stomach visiting you in the hospital, or Sherlock.” Mycroft admitted with a small amount of shame. Q’s frown deepened and he sat up despite his brother trying to stop him.

“Hey, what’s gotten into you? My?” The alpha dropped his head and then looked around the room as if for an escape from his emotions.

“I nearly lost Sherlock, twice now, three times including his faked suicide. You I’ve nearly lost more times than I could bear to count…” Mycroft paused to shake his head from the thoughts. “Everyone else I’ve ever loved, I have lost. And it occurred to me that I would be unable to bear loosing you two. I simply couldn’t.”

“You wont… not like this anyway, not right now.” Mycroft couldn’t respond to his murmur, face shut down and body tense as if to avoid any more painful and messy emotions.

Q nuzzled into him, and gradually Mycroft loosened up, breathed deeply again. He didn’t resist Mycroft shaking himself out of it to once again fussily coax Q back down to bed and tuck him in.

They sat that way for a long while, just being close, until there was a knock and the door opened to Eve Moneypenny, wearing deep yellow and a smile, James behind her.

“Sorry, I tried to stop her, but she’s insistent and I didn’t fancy getting shot. Eve shot an irritated and amused glance back at the other alpha and moved a bit more into the room.

“I have to leave soon, and I was promised a visit. Hello, Q, no don’t get up, I wont intrude long.” She halted both of their attempts at movement and offered Mycroft a smile that seemed less testing than usual as she leaned over to stroke Q’s cheek and then stomach.

“How are you getting along?” She asked, genuinely.

“Well enough, when I don’t feel like collapsing in a heap somewhere.” He replied with a small shrug. Lord knows he didn’t want _more_ people becoming insanely worried about him; evidently he’d already caused that quite enough. Eve smiled at his attempt at bravery and lent down to give him a peck on the cheek.

“You’ll have to show me that stomach of yours, next time, I want to be able to remember you this way for when you become thinner than me again.” Q 

“One day you’ll be pregnant and then I’ll get to mock you too.” He warned, and Eve, surprisingly, became slightly bashful as she straightened up.

“Well then, you’ll have to be the one bringing me cakes. I’ll visit again soon.” She turned to Mycroft, and offered her hand. Q was maybe the only person that noticed the moments pause in his brother when their eyes met. “Sorry I couldn’t meet you properly Mr?”

“Mycroft, Holmes.” The alpha recovered near-flawlessly. Eve clearly recognised the name, surprise widening her eyes. He took her hand and shook it before turning to give Q a kiss on the head goodbye. “I’ll pop by when you’re in the new house. I promised any number of MPs that I’d make an appearance at the Diogenes Club and they can make quite the sour expressions when one is late, tradition and all that.” Mycroft complained, he still looked exhausted with fret and emotion, but was at least calmer.

“The Diogenes?” Eve perked up, interest and curiosity lacing her tone and brightening the room slightly. Her expression was all well disguised intrigue and focused on Q’s oldest brother.

“Yes that’s right.” Mycroft responded as he stood, frowning. “And you are?” _As if you don’t know_ , Q thought, knowing his brother’s connections.

“Miss Moneypenny.”

“Charming to meet you, may I walk you to your car if you’re leaving?” Oh but Mycroft could be a smooth bastard, clearly he’d sensed the interest Moneypenny had in the club…although she was smiling in a way that indicated it wasn’t simply the riches…

“What a gentleman… you two should be taking some pointers.” Eve teased to them both as she took Mycroft’s offered arm… The male alpha gave an oh so slight preening cock of the head and smirk. And, Eve was in. Damn the woman could move fast, she had even taken James by surprise, Q was just left staring. Mycroft did like people who appreciated his values and tastes.

“I can be a gentleman.” James protested.

“And I’m in bed.” Q pointed out. Mycroft’s smirk and eyes held that hint of curiosity that would probably lead to trouble for either of the leaving parties, but he wasn’t sure which yet.

“Shall we?”

“Please.” Eve purred, and Mycroft preened again as they departed with farewells.

“…I don’t know who to warn about the other.” Q pondered after a vaguely frightened pause. James looked mildly terrified when he responded.

“Definitely your brother, Eve’s going to eat him for breakfast.” Q shuddered at the contrary, and the images it ensured.

“Oh no, it’s Mycroft who’s the really kinky one… he used to bring girls back…” Q shook off the thought of the memory; him and Sherlock listening curiously as to why there was a female in their house other than Mummy… oh the horror endured that day. Sherlock may never have recovered.

James looked a little sick at the thought too, and turned to the door the other alphas had left through.

“If it lasts a week I’m a secretary.”

 

-00Q00-

 

“Q?” James murmured into his omega’s hair softly. They were slumped together on the sofa; James pushed back into the cushions and trapped there when Q had set up camp curled against him. It was mid week, and raining, and miserable. Q was melancholy and nervous for half the time, and for the rest stood and looked lost until given direction.

Everything seemed to be getting worse. There had been no great improvements in fitness, and Q seemed to have fallen into a trough that he couldn’t quite pull out of.

It wasn’t deep, but it kept him from seeing the world as quite safe.

“James.” The younger man responded quietly, voice vague and eyes hooded and far off. James carefully drew his mate’s limp hands into his own and kissed them. There was a certain morbid peace in the misery, the grey weather, the house becoming less colourful around them.

It was strange, how even this, just being together through melancholia, could make James feel like he was at home. Like he was lucky.

Everything may have gone to shit, but they were together, like they had always promised. Like James had always wanted.

Someone to be this close to. There was something calming in that, no matter the circumstances.

There was trust in this. He was grateful for that.

“Nothing, love.”

 

-00Q00-

 

Q had never felt so lethargic in his life. It was stupid. Inside he knew it was stupid. That didn’t help matters.

They were in bed, James’ hand snaking over his waist, kissing the back of his neck. Q just stared at the wall.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” James mumbled into his hair, lips moving in a slow series of kisses over the back of his head.

“Tired.” Q responded quietly.

He hadn’t had any nightmares; he just hadn’t been able to sleep. He was scared. Was it fear? Today they had another appointment check up, in two days they were moving house…

He couldn’t help awfulising that there would be no reason to.

On the last check up, the doctors had been concerned. Q hadn’t told James. The alpha had had to take a phone call from Six during the appointment; he hadn’t seen the slight frown that couldn’t be covered up before Q had noticed. They had been expecting more movement by now. They had been expecting something.

Maybe that meant…

 _God. Fuck._ Q bit his lip and tried not to shake in front of James. Tried not to clutch his stomach and beg.

“Do you want me to rebook the appointment?”

He was just so afraid that he was going to lose everything. That he hadn’t managed, that inside him Blasty was-

“Q, Love?” He took a deep breath slowly; hoping James thought the shake in it was fatigue.

“S’alright darling.” James had no idea, he still had hope. And there was still hope. It was just he couldn’t even bare half the thoughts screaming through his head.

But he knew it would just crush James.

Today would be fine. It had to be.

Q rolled over and looked in James’ beautiful blue eyes for a long moment, drinking in the amused quirk of them.

“Do you have any idea how wonderful you are?” James smirked slightly.

“I like to think I have an inkling.” Q kissed him, then again deeper and nuzzled into him. He could be strong for James. He could do that. He could hope. James deserved that and so much more, after everything life had put him through. Q would do everything he could to change this.

“Then everything’s going to be fine.”

 

-00Q00-

 

“We’ll just see how the next couple of days go, how does that sound?”

It sounded like everything had shattered into a million irretrievable pieces. James knew what those sort of sentences meant. Christ he used them on missions often enough ‘cross that bridge’ ‘step by step’. Worse, he knew with just one look what it meant for Q.

His mate was white as a ghost. And he was barely moving.

Dr. Darcy looked agonised at the effect his words had on them, but really without lying there was no nice way the man could have phrased it.

He didn’t know if Blasty was going to make it. He didn’t think their pup was going to survive.

Not because anything had changed, but because nothing had changed.

Read outs were still fine, everything was normal, but somehow their pup wasn’t responding.

For all they knew at this point there had been damage the scans couldn’t pick up. No one knew what was wrong, or even if anything was wrong. Rumbles could become active in minutes or weeks. Everything might be fine but they wouldn’t know until the birth.

But the fact that they didn’t know had the doctors worried.

James wanted to shout at them, demand they do something, anything! He wanted to urge Rumbles to do something because, god, if this kept up, even James was starting to crumble.

“We are not having this discussion.” The look their doctor fixed him with was nothing but deepest agony, words clearly enunciated but quiet, gentle for all their slow severity.

“If nothing changes, we may have to. There’s a possibility that the baby could become a danger to your mate, if anything went downhill. That, and you have to think of the stress.”

Unsure if he was boiling or grieving, James could say nothing.

“You don’t need to consider anything drastic right now. But you need to know.”

James couldn’t move, locked in staring at the doctor. After a minute of fraught silence, Q’s hand on his made him jump.

“James,” Q looked awful and bloodless, but he was meeting the alpha’s eyes with a beseeching and barely-focusing gaze. At the whisper, James moved closer, the doctor turned to put things away, giving them space. “I can’t move.” Q whispered, still in that worrying state of half-present, half faint.

Thankfully, Q’s reliance on him gave James that fighting purpose to breathe, to cope, to get them back to safety. He just wanted to get home, get them both home. All three of them.

“Come on,” James murmured, and helped Q’s surprisingly stiff body to sit, stand. The posture was frightening. Q wouldn’t stand up straight, or couldn’t. When he moved it was to back up and to the side into James, body tense but quivering in a traumatised shake.

“Easy love.” But it was no use. Q wouldn’t even walk in a straight line out the door, shying into James as if he was a cowering and terrified animal. The omega wasn’t heavy, but having Q lean on him so witlessly made it a struggle to keep moving directly ahead.

Darcy carefully didn’t watch their exit, whole body posture awkward with sympathy. James’s worry went right to his gut.

He’d seen people afraid, terrified, unable to move or struck dumb with fear… but he’d never seen a person move like this.

Q crept beside him on shivery limbs and got progressively worse as they progressed and the thoughts whirred. By the time James had gotten out the front doors and was heading to the car, Q was so stiff in his legs that he was barely moving. James had no doubt that if he had sat down in the middle of the road, Q wouldn’t have so much as squeaked. In fact it would probably have proven impossible to get the man back up when stopped. The omega was staring forward blindly, barely breathing, and the agent had to resist the urge to carry him.

But they did make it to the car. Q actually got himself in and settled without needing aid, although James hovered to cover his mate’s back. With the younger man safely inside James went round, mind on a focused loop of –just get home just get home now-.

And maybe Q was responding to him rather than the other way around? Feeding off each other like a nightmare version of photosynthesis.

He turned the heating up full blast and drove them back in silence.

The heat, maybe the scent of their car, maybe James’ calming on having a route to follow and activity to focus on, seemed to loosen the stiffness in Q’s limbs and muscles until the shaking had died down to a faint tremor.

Q started blinking again, breathing deeply again, and James felt himself calm because of it.

One shock piece of news, and it didn’t have to be cause to worry just yet. Everyone in the world recovered at different speeds. They just needed to give the little pup some time!

He had to think like that.

Though there were so many levels where he didn’t believe it.

 

-00Q00-

 

Their house was cold and dark and foreign feeling upon their return, nothing in its usual place and their existence in boxes. Q was walking normally now, a bit ducked in stress and fatigue, but in straight lines and under his own power. His legs were wobbly rather than stiff.

The door shut behind them, and left a quiet silence save for the eternal mizzling of the weather and rustle of wind blown leaves.

James put the keys on the table, feeling their pup’s growth chart under his knuckles and determining to not look down. It would be the end of him.

Instead he looked at Q, who dithered on the spot in a little sway, staring blankly and blinking lethargically in no direction in particular.

“Q,” James murmured, so very low and soft that it could be ignored if Q wanted.

“Give me a minute,” Q requested, voice vague and similarly quiet, though much higher and thinner in pitch. James waited, watching, hearing the rain and a clock ticking and their slow breathing. “I think I’m going to lie down.” Came the eventual decision, a bit wavering, but a little stronger. Q started off and James followed wordlessly as if tugged.

Q stripped in a random and nonsensical order, then meandered into the bathroom, James shadowing in concern.

However the omega simply went about his nightly rituals, despite the fact that it was four in the afternoon, and even took a shower. James found himself waiting by the door for the brief time as though deprived of his free will to move away.

He did help dry Q off, who leaned into the contact as he randomly dried himself. He’d left his glasses on in the shower too. They went back to the bedroom where Q pulled on some pyjama bottoms and a t-shirt of James’ from this morning, and rolled into bed languidly, catching at James’ hand as he went.

A thumb stroked the agent’s knuckles softly as Q breathed out slowly, bringing his spare hand to rub James’ nearest knee.

“I might not move for some time, I’m afraid, but its okay, I just want to rest, maybe try some breathing things…” Q’s voice drifted a bit sleepily as his eyelids fell. “Maybe just picture you in short shorts.” James snorted in surprise, and even though Q’s grip was going lax in sleep, went to his side of the bed and slid up behind Q.

In a bit, he would need a drink, or five. Once he was sure Q was asleep and not just delirious. However, as he curled an arm around Q’s belly and nosed into his mate’s neck, he found some solace there that lulled him into a not-quite sleep, but close enough.

James woke hours later cool and slightly itchy from sleeping in his clothes. He left Q resting and went to where the whiskey was.

A couple of fingers helped stoke his mind from unrest into languid misery.

This had been far too much stress on Q, on him, on their baby. It was no wonder the poor thing was fighting to survive.

As he looked out into the rain, James sank into the morbidity of wondering why Rumbles couldn’t just fight a bit harder. And of how he shouldn’t have been surprised that it had come to this. Really, that was meant to be the best things about dreams wasn’t it? That they stayed in your head, where no one could tarnish them.

 

-00Q00-

 

Q couldn’t get out of bed again. Not physically but mentally. He had contemplated it earlier, about an hour or so ago, but then simply rolled over instead as if that served as a substitute.

James was playing the radio today; Q could hear it humming over the rain in the background.

Since going to the doctors, yesterday, and suffering from a near-complete breakdown the likes of which he hadn’t felt since that time in the restaurant when he was ten. Only, he’d been able to come out of it this time. Q thought it must have helped having James with him, having James _struggling_ with him, because they both seemed to come round and feed off of each other together. Natural recovery. Sort of.

That, and, without James there to hold him up, Q knew he had been one vertical meter from just rolling and tapping out of the agony for a while. But he hadn’t been pushed to that stage, or had been pulled back from it.

It left him feeling strange.

But then, that was the least of his worries, really. Wasn’t it? Was it?

Without really thinking Q got out of bed, shaking a little in his limbs.

He had tried to be brave last night, but when it came down to it he really wasn’t feeling brave at all.

There was nothing he could do. There was nothing he could do. It was all down to fate, now, chance.

Resting hadn’t helped, worrying hadn’t helped, eating, drinking, anything. His pup’s survival was literally out of his direct control.

He could do absolutely nothing.

It was terrifying because it opened another avenue of thought… a truly horrific and abysmal avenue to perceive for someone who needed to be in control after so long without…

There was nothing he could do… and therefore, he should, he could, do, nothing?

Not worry.

Not think about the potentials.

Because he had no control.

The lack of power, opened up the power of letting the worry of said power go… Was this just like submission, to a fact?

He didn’t know what to do with the thought, the new information. It was scary as hell in that it might actually save this… stop him from ripping apart, let him be able to live and be with James and might even improve their pup’s fighting chances with less stress…

But how could he just…stop when his only control in the situation right now came from worrying obsessively about it, would it be tempting fate?

Q found James’ large woollen jumper in his hands, on his body.

The living room window was in front of him and he couldn’t remember walking here but stopped, letting the mellow song on the radio dip through his system as he stared at the rain and tumbled over thoughts of tempting fate Vs being free, having no control Vs giving them all what they needed…

James’ presence leaked into his awareness, and Q’s hands were on his belly, and he could only turn to his mate with a plea for some kind of help.

“James,”

 

-00Q00-

 

The sound of shuffling and the scent of Q drawing closer broke James from his mindless numbness and task of cleaning already clean dishes. He dropped them swiftly, realising what he was doing.

When James came into the living room, the lights hadn't been put on. Q was staring vacantly at the rain pattering against and trailing down the grey window. The sky was darkening outside and James watched his mate's face illuminated roughly in the dull light.

Shadows and monochrome highlights. Q's eyes looked almost ardently grey/blue in the storm light, deepening darkly to deep grey/green sea at the edges. It was haunting.

The slow, melodic and sorrowful tune kept playing on the radio. James leant for a moment in the doorway, observing his younger mate, heart aching and soul threatening to drown him in the projected anguish. Q looked vulnerable and weak in the large woolen jumper from James' closet. The drab material over his black pyjamas did little to help the spectrum of grey littering his mate…

Save for the red rims to his eyes, the colour almost starkly violent amidst the wash of unsaturated blue.

Eloquent hands poked out from too-long sleeves, coming to rest oh so softly over Q's belly. The sound of rain pestering the world was loud as the omega finally turned to half-catch his eyes, nearly drowning the softly hushed voice.

"James," There was something so tremulous about his Q in that moment, the half whispered plea for help directed in pure eye contact for precious lingering moments. Silently the alpha was straightening up and hurrying over.

He slowed down upon reaching Q, whose hands were curled around his upper arms; close enough to see the bright sheen of silvery tears on the dark coal of lashes. James ducked their heads to touch, blue irises momentarily focused on the clumping of wet eyelashes on his mate's face. He slid his hands to ghost with the most whispered feather of touches over Q's stomach.

There was a hitch of breath and James rubbed his hands up trembling arms.

"Shh," He drew the sound out, shifted his head to the side, guided Q in closer. With another shuddering breath the younger man pressed close, hands coming to curl around James' neck, upper arm. The alpha pulled him in the rest of the way, felling the curve of belly pressed against his own muscled stomach, used the momentum to rock Q gently with another gentle shush.

Q's strength visibly crumbled, hands tightening as his shoulders hitched and chin jerked into James' shoulder with silent sobs, breath nearly drowned out by the rain and soft radio.

James' rocking became gradually intone with the rhythm of the song, gently swaying them as his hips led Q's. Side to side, slowly lilting through some dance of morose melancholy together in the grey light of the room, James felt Q come apart in his arms. Their movements loosened as Q's hold on his body did. Wider James swayed them, following the melody and occasionally breathing long shushes of 'I've got you, I've got you' into his mate's ear.

They rotated a little, a very little, as Q clung and cried his fear and exhaustion out with an almost frightening, definitely soul-destroying silence that left James frowning, face ducked into his mate's hair, he did all he could to soothe the man in his arms without invading his moment of necessary collapse.

He ran his hands up Q's back, to his hair, cradled him close and safe and just existed, just allowed the moment to continue as Q needed it. James let his world slow and time wind to a pause as he swayed with Q. Slowing them both down to the point where Q's world could latch on to his own and catch up, slide back into sync and begin rotating with them again.

With every barely audible hitch of breath and juddering release of silent cries, Q came back to him.

It was as if he could feel it, the scent picking up gradually, the confidence returning to the curl of fingers wrapped around his body, the warmth. The disassociation receded so subtly that James could almost convince himself it hadn't been there; that weird imprint on his wall like a mind.

In its place was just Q, his ragged and wrought and shattered Q, clinging to him, trusting everything to him, nothing left to protect himself with… Lost in a dark sea and finally able to see James standing on the shore holding a flashlight over the waves. Blindly hoping that light would bring him home, bring him back.

Wrapped up in each other, inseparable, their smothering net of oppressive sorrow and fear loosened, unwound, dissipated and left only an empty flat and hollow bodies clinging to each other with the rain pattering down in sympathetic tears, blanketing their raw bodies from the world.

The song wound to a halt, something different starting both startlingly yet unnoticed. Q was more slumped against him than upright, occasional hitches of breath, weak legs and half-mast eyes the only indication of his being awake.

James felt drained, disemboweled of both poison and emotion and left to recover in a state that protected him from feeling. Q seemed much the same.

"Come on, I've got you. Lets go to bed." His voice still whispered more than murmured as he guided them towards the bedroom. Q moved with him on the bed to curl up there, on top of the mattress with no bedding, clung to his anchor and draped over his rock.

James held him close, stroked down his hair, felt the blessedly present swell of Q's stomach, and let himself drift off into a half sleep, aware of every breath made against him. Reveling in the relief of that scent and tangle of limbs around him. Every inch and press of Q was familiar territory, revived memory.

Soul feeling complete and healed for the first time in weeks, James slept, the sound of his finally peacefully slumbering Q an unsurpassable lullaby.

 

-00Q00-

 

At first, Q wasn’t quite sure what had woken him. It was still raining, night, the curtains they had forgotten to close letting in yellow-orange streetlights. James was warm beneath his cheek, sleeping peacefully, hands loosely carded on the small of his mate’s back.

Q blinked for a moment, there was a strange feeling of peace over him, and he had no idea why. Last night, or earlier this night, Q wasn’t sure of the time, he had let go. All the biting worry, anxiety, just…let it go.

He felt a bit empty and loose without it tensing his every waking moment, but happy, relieved.

After a moment’s ponder, Q supposed that nothing in particular had woken him, maybe he’d just finally gotten enough sleep… or not, as his eyes were drifting shut again.

Inches and breaths away from dreams, he felt it, that flicker of a rumble.

Pausing, Q held his breath, the movement continued slow and stretching-ish. With prickling eyes the omega brought a hand to his belly, felt the flutterings of movement back against him. A choked sob escaped him.

“Q? What’s wrong?” James mumbled, waking rapidly. Too chocked up to possibly manage anything even vaguely coherent Q grabbed James’ hand and pressed it to his stomach, holding it there.

“…Oh Christ!” James blurted, shocked, lurching into a sit.

Q burst out laughing, loud and untempered and bubbling, shaking him, James joining in lower. He couldn’t stop, curling around James and his stomach, relief spilling out of him along with the tears as he held on and grinned through the emotion.

Pushing himself up when the fit calmed down to giggles, Q pulled James close by a shoulder. His mate met him halfway for the kiss, both with one hand on Q’s stomach and smiling against each other’s lips in shaky, impossible giddiness. James turned eventually back down to his stomach.

“You took your time pup!” He grinned, Q nuzzled into his alpha, shushing quietly and resting his hand on the top of his stomach.

“It doesn’t matter, they’re home.” James shot him a strange look, and in a blink was kissing Q fiercely.

“James?”

“How ever did I manage to find you?” The alpha asked with a spreading grin. A faint smile caught Q’s lips as he traced James’ face with his fingers, moving over cheeks, jaw, lips. Both their spare hands remained curled on his belly, coming to tangle together. He pulled James down to rest against him, stroking the short blonde hair and tucking his chin over the great head. Q rubbed their joined hands over his belly slightly, the rumbling gentle, often.

“Because M ordered you to. Which is good as it turns out because you’re definitely the best thing that’s ever happened to me. And I happen to be madly in love with you.” There was an amused and satisfied hum.

“And I love you too.” Q spoke to Blasty. James kissed his shoulder, smiled against him, chuckled.

Q mirrored the soft laughter, and was soon back into fits of it as they lay together, their pup rumbling between them.

“Thank you,” He murmured eventually, and hoped that James and Blasty both realised it was for them. At least by the kiss to his neck, he could tell that one of them did.

The other, well, he’d have to wait and see now, wouldn’t he?

Excitement kicked his gut as the realisation came to him that _yes_ , he _would_ see.

Eighteen weeks, and they would finally meet Blasty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The second to last scene in this chapter (with the radio playing and the hug-dancing) Is possibly one of my favourites. I wrote it quite a long few weeks ago before starting this saga, listening to the song 'O Children' by nick Cave & the Bad Seeds, which is one of my very favourite songs. And it was inspired by the scene in the 7th HP movie that uses that song whilst Harry and Hermione were dancing... which is my favourite scene from all the films, judge me as you please ;P anyway, I found the combination heartbreakingly sad/fun/happy/melancholy, and hopefully some of the emotion I had writing it got through... but it might just be confusing! Here's hoping, anyway :)
> 
> This ends the 'doom-gloom' saga, as it were. Thank you for sticking with my slipping mind and all your damn stunning comments, I hope to have more up when I can n_n


	31. H0: Decorative and designish; H1: Do it from the heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please say it isn't too too late! I haven't been bitten by any more animals, you'll hopefully be glad to know ;D It was a little bit difficult to get back into the swing of fluff after so long in melancholia. Regardless, hopefully, you still enjoy! n_n

Their new house turned out to come in much the same state as they had left their old flat: filled with boxes of their possessions.

James lost heart at the thought of all the unpacking combined with the added evil of stairs. _Three_ flights, two up and one down. Q laughed at his expression.

“Its not that bad.”

“You’re drunk on rumbles, you don’t know what you’re saying.” Q laughed again, and bent to pick up a box. “Hey wait wait wait!” Q stopped, befuddled expression on his face as James removed the box of pillows from his arms. “You don’t need to do that, why don’t you sit down and rest.” Q quirked a smile at him and prepared to tug the box back, James relinquished it only because he didn’t want Q to fall over if he fought too hard.

“Don’t be absurd, we drove all the way over and I didn’t lift a finger to move anything up here.”

“I still say we should have gotten Mycroft’s movers to unpack everything.”

“And have them touching all our stuff and putting it in the wrong places? No thank you.” Q turned and started up the stairs, James trailing behind helplessly with a whine of worry. Good grief, what had he been turned into.

“You have a check up on Tuesday, you shouldn’t wear yourself out.” Q chortled as he entered the master bedroom.

“If you want I can call Tanner and Eve and we can have it all unpacked within the day, if they’re free.” James debated that for a moment. He half wanted to do this with Q alone, but the sooner they were settled in the better. “Wow, I’d forgotten how big it was.” Q paused a meter into their new room, looking at their assembled luxurious new bed and copious amounts of empty space. Finally dropping the box, to James’ relief, the omega walked over to the walk in wardrobe/nursery area, standing there and staring in contemplation.

James snuck up behind him and wormed his hands under jumper onto the bare skin of Q’s now quite rounded belly, petting fondly. His head came to rest on Q’s shoulder as they looked at the space.

“It’s a bit bland.” Q reflected.

“We’ll fill it with tat soon enough. Some of the other rooms could do with redecorating too.” Q hummed in agreement and thought, looking around the small space.

“What colour do we paint it? And the baby’s room, too, for that matter.”

“Hmm?” James questioned.

“Well, we don’t know Blasty’s sex, or gender, picking either pink or blue would seem inappropriate even if stereotyping wasn’t degrading. And yellow is-“

“Not yellow.” James inputted, firmly.

“Hmm?” Q turned to him, curiously, noses nearly brushing.

“My room was yellow, painted it soon as I got the chance. And green is off, especially pale green. It reminds me of hospitals.”

“Purple reminds me of the queen too much. Not to mention pomp and circumstance.”

“Cream is boring.”

“Red is violent or overtly sexual.”

“White and grey are cold.”

“Not black.”

“Not black.”

They paused for a moment, both contemplating the empty space before them until James spoke again.

“What does that leave us with then?” The answer was nothing, but Q thought for a moment, a small amused smile spreading over his face.

“…Red, white and blue?” James grinned over, and it was meant to be a joke, but as he met Q’s eyes, both of their grins spread.

After all, what were they both if not two of her majesty’s servants deeply in love?

 

-00Q00-

 

Tanner and Eve did come over, individually, and Q resigned himself to accepting everyone’s wishes to do as little heavy lifting as possible, or lifting in general. He didn’t really put up too much of a fight, considering the last few weeks and the stress everyone had gone through. Not to mention the fact that he really did get tired very easily still. Blasty may have begun to recover and rumble, but Q’s latent exhaustion was still liable to spring up. As he wasn’t keen on spending another week unable to get out of bed, the quartermaster admitted a graceful defeat and instead unpacked only items which were soft, light, and generally undamaging.

Tanner, bless the man, wandered into the kitchen for a brew just as Q was spreading Blasty’s growth chart onto the table in pride of place. The chief of staff came over curiously, tie and jacket removed, top button undone and sleeves rolled up.

“I’ve heard about this. Did you know your minions have started one too?” Q looked up, startled.

“What?”

“Mm, I think there’s a spreadsheet to go along with it. As well as a sex/gender bet and a name sweepstake.”

“A name sweepstake?” James commented, disbelief and amusement warring in his crinkling eyes. The man dropped a pair of box cutters and grabbed a beer from the fridge, offering one to a very grateful Tanner. “What’s winning?”

Bill thought for a moment, taking a drink.

“For a boy Geoffrey and for a girl Emma, shortened to ‘Em’ of course.” Both mates stared.

“They think I’d name my son after _Boothroyd_?” Q postulated, love the old chap though he had, he wasn’t quite that attached to his work. He didn’t live there! Apparently those rumours hadn’t died out as much as he thought. James was still recovering.

“They think I’d name my daughter after _M_?” He contended, shaking his head. “I called the damn woman ‘bitch’ half the time.” Tanner hid a smirk.

“Well, never let it be said that Q-Branch are without their own unique brand of humour.”

Q turned to James, who looked back, both emphatically giving each other the look of ‘no’ to both names.

“Did you get the clothes yet, Q?” Tanner queried, changing the subject, Q startled a bit, and looked over.

“Clothes, no?”

“I got you some,” Tanner said, putting his drink down and scanning the boxes around their feet. “Hope you don’t mind.” He added, picking his way over to one in particular.

Q did not mind. He was more than happy to never go back to that particular shop of degrading horrors. He still hadn’t forgotten about the ‘jumbo stretch’.

“Its internet ordered, so it might not be quite right.” The alpha admitted as both James and Q came over. The box contained the ‘next size up’ as it were, and actually some of it was rather classy. James hummed in approval anyway. “Eve had her way in some of it… some of the more colourful items…” Tanner admitted, holding up a clear package of whacky patterned jumpers with disdain. Q had to restrain himself from grabbing at them with delight under the pained eyes of his mate. “But I couldn’t resist a few items.”

Q watched Tanner turn to him with a hint of a mischievous smile, pulling out a familiar doubled tuxedo top with purple glittery writing on it. Q burst out laughing whilst Tanner grinned. James took one look at it, blanched and snatched it away.

“W-where’re you going?” Q managed through the laughter.

“To burn this.” Q slumped to the ground with a cackle, rolling whilst Tanner ducked his head and shook with silent chuckles and the occasional snort.

 

-00Q00-

 

James’ main regret was that he and Q hadn’t been able to christen their new bed properly on their first night in their new house. Nor indeed had they fully appreciated all the rooms in similar fashion. The alpha didn’t want to do anything too extraneous whilst Q was still weak.

He had, however, taken Q to bed and brought the younger man to pleasured cries with his fingers and mouth. Q had felt cheated from being able to reciprocate, but James succeeded in encouraging him to pass out in the post-orgasm haze rather than attempt anything. The alpha could take care of himself if need be, and had in fact, when catching sight of the healthy-sized bathtub and imagining all the ways he could have Q in it.

In the light of dawn on their second morning in the house, James rolled Q over half onto his back gently, propped up by the rather strange pillow Alec had given the omega as a pregnancy gift of sorts. A softly amused smile graced his lips as Q snuffled and shifted into wakefulness. James continued his tracing of his mate’s form, gaze committing the sight to memory.

It wasn’t just Q’s size that had changed. Over half way through his pregnancy Q’s hair was almost absurdly thick, the soft skin around his nipples had darkened a few tones, freckles too seemed a bit starker. Today, as James’ hand stroked from the darkened nubs down to Q’s belly, he noticed another difference. Though not fully sticking out, the omega’s naval was beginning to make a bid for the outside world, nearly flush with his stomach where usually James would lave into the dent with his tongue.

Altogether, it was absolutely fascinating. Whilst Q shuffled closer, a hint of rumbling picked up under James’ hand. The alpha grinned and pressed his head down to the swollen belly of his younger mate, kissing gently.

“Morning Rumbles, I’ll bet someone had a good night’s sleep in their water bed.”

“Mmm I’ll bet.” Q mumbled above him, absently reaching to scratch gently through James’ hair, sending pleasant shivers all the way to the alpha’s toes.

“Morning sunshine.” James smiled, feeling it widen at Q’s contented and happy sigh from above him, fingers not ceasing their massage.

“Morning handsome.” Q replied, obviously still half asleep, because he didn’t laugh at James practically preening at the compliment. He sighed happily again when the alpha kissed his stomach, James nuzzling there peacefully.

 

-00Q00-

 

“-Cooking, hmm? Maybe you’ll want to be a baker.” James strolled up from moving things down to their basement floor and leant over the couch to kiss Q on the head. The omega was sitting with a mixing bowl on his crossed legs, full of something being beaten gently.

“Talking to yourself are we?” James teased, Q grinned mischievously and flicked a fingertip of mixture at his mate. James licked it off the corner of his mouth and then kissed Q who wriggled at the taste with a pleased demeanour.

“Talking to your first-born, thank you very much.” Q responded primly, though he was still smiling. James’ heart had skipped a beat at the words ‘first born’, a curiously excited reaction. “Every time ‘ _The Great British Bake off_ ’ comes on Blasty makes a move. Evidently our pup has the leanings of a great patisserie chef.” Q announced with a sureness that James found endearing. The alpha moved to lean more comfortably, arms either side of Q’s head.

“You wish.” He grinned, and Q stuck his tongue out.

“It would be adorable, don’t ruin my dream.”

“You’ll find it adorable even if rumbles’ passion is Morris Dancing combined with ritualised murder.”

“I would not!”

“You will.”

“No. Not in the least. You’re the one who’s going to be the sap and child-spoiler here, James Bond,” Q turned to smile at him, only a little challenge diluting the affection in his eyes, “I don’t doubt it for a minute.” James traced Q’s cheek gently and then bent to kiss the corner of his mouth, murmuring against soft lips.

“We’ll just see about that, you’re the one making me cake Q.” James didn’t give Q a chance to defend himself before kissing him and strutting off with a smirking smile.

“It’s a bet, you monster!” Q called after him with a laugh.

 

-00Q00-

 

Dr Darcy was overjoyed at their appointment to see their previously grim-prognosis pup going back to the usual aquabatics.

Q had to force himself from looking between their baby’s legs these days, in case he saw something he didn’t want the answer to. He was just getting so damn curious. What would Blasty look like? Would the pup have their father’s eyes? Hair? Athleticism?

For now Q could just about content himself with watching their pup wiggle around and occasionally grasp the umbilical cord. He couldn’t help imagining what a tiny hand would feel like wrapped around his finger… It made his hands almost tingle with curious desire for the sensation; he had always had an excellent sense of touch that helped with some of the more delicate aspects of his work.

They were close now, too, that was the thing. Over half way. As of today Q was 23 weeks along, both terrifying and exhilarating, realising that in around 17 weeks time, they’d actually have the pup in their arms… It was astonishing, really.

 

-00Q00-

 

“Are you sure you’re capable of this?” Sherlock questioned bluntly, coming over to hold the pregnancy book in front of Q. It was open on the rather graphic birthing chapters. The omega tried not to pale.

“I hear it’s a biological possibility.” He responded dryly. Sherlock scowled, scowled at the book, and then turned Q around from where he was trying to get a pair of shoes out and grabbed his hips. “What are you doing?”

“Seems a lot of pain, for something that at the moment weighs approximately half a kilo.” Q stretched enough to grab some shoes whilst Sherlock’s fingers tapped on his hipbones slightly in contemplation.

“Actually, it supposedly acts as a sort of numbing factor, in a way. The shock of the hips dislocating triggers the brain to try and clamp down on the pain response, making the birth itself mildly less agonising.” It didn’t really make Q feel any better about the prospect. Sherlock, however, seemed fascinated.

The beta proceeded to grill Q for more information during the taxi ride and brief walk to the nearest Homebase. Q tried to answer, whilst at the same time trying to find the colours of paint that he and James had chosen earlier from some colour charts.

It wasn’t just Blasty’s room being painted. James had wanted the bedroom re-done from the rather uninspiring powdery blue into a warm cream that he wanted to accentuate with rich tones of dark brown woodwork. All in all, it was a lot of work for that room alone, but Q had to admit that James had excellent taste. After all, the alpha had spent years of his life in some of the most luxurious, and exotic, and isolated, and everything in between areas of the world. James, it seemed, had been subconsciously collating preferences and ideas and was taking this opportunity to put it into practice.

Today Q’s mate was back at MI6, and whilst the omega was a little jealous, at least he was getting to start on the decorating this week. Which appealed almost insanely to the nesting-inventor/designer in him. Sherlock seemed to be accompanying mostly to voice his opinion, but Q didn’t mind so much. After all, if he hadn’t had someone with him James might have forbidden him from leaving the house, or something equally exasperating.

James had rather gamely suggested that the living room be Q’s idea, since the quartermaster’s corner couch was one of the few pieces of furniture that they’d taken with them.

“We’ve got the boring cream, what else are we doing here?” Sherlock complained mutinously.

“I’m picking a colour for the living room… its my choice, apparently…” Q murmured, wandering down the line, drawn towards the brighter ends of the spectrum for reasons he couldn’t name.

Sherlock seemed to have pricked up in interest.

“…Your choice?” He piped up. Neither of them had had any say in bedrooms growing up, of course. Mycroft had had some, but only because he carefully chose similar themes to what was deemed ‘acceptable’. Sherlock had no chance, being that his choices meandered wildly between gothic and rebelliously bright. Q had never dared voice an opinion other than to agree.

Both brothers converged upon one particular shade as Q plucked the card from the wall.

“Bond wont kill you for this?” Sherlock confirmed, not sounded too worried about it.

“He said my choice. If he hates it, I’ll just pick something else.”

“But he wont hate it, will he.” Sherlock pointed out. “Because its you.” Q couldn’t help but smile as he picked out a large tin of ‘Kiwi Burst 2’ paint.

 

-00Q00-

 

Q started painting on Thursday with Sherlock. James had smiled with indulgence and intrigue when the omega told him that the living room would be painted by the time he came back, and that it would be a surprise. Sherlock seemed particularly keen to help, and had immediately volunteered himself, and later John after the doctor’s stint as Locum was over for the day.

Decked out in suitably old clothes… or rather a pair of lab coats they each had lying over from their workplaces, the two brothers set about the task. Q was leaving all the ladder work to Sherlock, and was instead focussing on the delicate aspects, such as avoiding the skirting board and other fixtures. The beta was erratic and energetic enough to go at double any speed Q could or should muster anyway, especially given his current condition.

Each lick of paint felt somehow cathartic, as if they were covering up something they hadn’t even known was there with each vibrant stroke.

“Tea?” Q asked half an hour in, back aching already and desperate for a cuppa. Sherlock shook out his arms and rolled his eyes.

“Very well, but then no more for an hour, we must finish today…” Q shook his head with a smile, no doubt with his ever-determined and egotistical brother here they would finish. Sherlock would not be beaten by something so mundane as a wall and fatigue. The sureness of their success was infectious, and, well, the Holmes boys had always had their egos in common.

“Alright, you’re right. We’ll never finish otherwise, and we’ve got to do at least two coats.”

Q brewed the tea as Sherlock held his hands up as if examining the room through a picture frame.

“You need more decoration. I’ll text John to bring along some plants.”

“I don’t-“

“Yes, you do.” Q huffed, setting a mug down by the nearest dustsheet-covered table.

“How are things with John? Have you two-“

“Have we kissed again, you mean? You always were subtle as a brick through a glass window at times brother dear.” Q smiled, he could see Q blushing under the words.

“Well, I’m twice my normal size and probably hormonal, indulge me.” Q requested, taking a seat. Sherlock grimaced, snatching the cup and taking a swig to avoid talk momentarily. No doubt the man could postpone it indefinitely, if he wanted, but he always seemed to eventually let slip with Q.

“I…held his hand. I don’t know why. We weren’t doing anything.” Q took a sip. It was really too amazing, witnessing the great thaw.

“Were you in public?” Sherlock frowned, managing to look vaguely pained at himself.

“No, we were in the lab, looking at results… And then again in the flat. Its infuriating, incontrollable-“

“Did he like it?” Sherlock rolled his eyes dramatically.

“Of course he liked it! This is John, he lit up like that year you rigged the lights on the Christmas tree.”

“Ah, the Christmas of 1999…” Q mused, fondly. It had been their first Christmas without Mummy or Father around, and with Mycroft busy at work the alpha had cringingly accepted Sherlock’s demands, and Q’s to be honest, to allow them to decorate the tree and house solo. Of course, normal lights hadn’t quite been good enough for the youngest Holmes. Sherlock had only egged him on, to be fair.

Come to think of it, that may have coincided with the sudden drop in his eyesight.

“One of your finer moments, I must admit.” Sherlock praised, expression clearly enjoying the memory of Mycroft’s true horror when they turned on the display and nearly blown the wattage for the entire village.

“Did you enjoy it?” Q continued after a moment to reminisce. For a moment, Sherlock stared into his tea in thought. Q had nearly given up on an answer; drink nearly finished, by the time the man spoke again.

“More than I liked.” He admitted, finally, quietly.

“That’s good then.”

“It does indeed seem to be progress.”

They continued painting not long after that, and with few more words. There was a brief derisive exchange over the paint strokes, and then the size of the room before Q put the radio on just to shut up Sherlock for a moment.

They were getting on better, yes, and he loved his brother, yes, but they didn’t half drive each other up the wall sometimes.

Sherlock changed the station to jazz, and Q let him, recalling that John enjoyed the genre and only too happy to encourage the calm mood it put his brother in.

A few tea breaks later, and Q was fixing some sandwiches, consumed at lightning pace by Sherlock, who then proceeded to fuss Q into sitting down and brought him another one.

They’d gotten the final solid chunk of wall done and were starting on the second coat when a familiar car pulled up outside the window. Q blinked in surprise when Mycroft stepped out and waved the vehicle off, heading up to the house armed with his umbrella and a food bag.

Instantly, Q’s stomach growled as if conditioned.

“Sherlock too, well isn’t this a pleasant surprise…” Mycroft didn’t seem surprised by Sherlock’s presence in the least. He did, however, keep looking around the brightly painted room with something similar.

“Hello Mycroft.” Q greeted, brushing off his hands and moving to accept the food package gleefully.

“Aster, how are you?” Q paused in his eating of a rather spectacular cookie that he had unearthed as Mycroft moved to hug him. Q leaned into it for a moment before starting slightly.

“Oh! Here,” Hurriedly he put the bag down and grabbed Mycroft’s hand, beckoning with his free one to Sherlock. “You should be able to feel it now.”

Mycroft’s eyes widened fractionally, Sherlock gave up all pretence of scoffing his elder brother’s presence and was there with a hand in a second.

A strange hush fell over the three of them. Q felt a little unsure for a moment, everything seemed too charged, three intense focuses down on his one little wriggling pup, barely over 20 cm –which still seemed pretty big to Q- and unable to really comprehend the world. Could something so small be so pivotal?

“Aster…” Mycroft began, trailed off, hand steady above Sherlock’s thinner, trembling one.

They stood there for a while, until the inevitable questions started.

“How often can you feel anything?” Sherlock demanded.

“Um, several times a day, more when I’m laying down.”

“Any kicks?”

“Not yet, just rumbles.”

“And you don’t know the sex or gender, do you?”

“No, they wanted a _surprise_.” Mycroft sniffed in the background, clearly still disparaging. Sherlock snorted semi-derisively, as if thinking that only Mycroft would make such a fuss, and only Q would be so adamant. At the thought, and this impossible scenario, Q couldn’t help but snort, snigger, and dissolve into disbelieving laughter.

“I think he’s broken.”

“Hormones, dear Sherlock, hormones.”

It was all Q could do to remember to breathe.

He had to take a seat for a while whilst he calmed down, not seeing the brief fond looks from both brothers before masks fell back in place. Mycroft took to wandering around and looking at the paintwork whilst Q took several deep breaths, feeling a touch lightheaded. Sherlock went back to his paintbrush, scowling in concentration as he resumed the dramatic spread of colour.

“It would appear…” Mycroft paused, squinting at the pair of them, at the walls, Q wordlessly got up to resume his painting, wondering if Mycroft was thinking what he was; that the two of them together were trying to create the antithesis of their childhood.

Maybe he was. With a small sniff and a casual roll of sleeves, Mycroft delicately picked up a paintbrush and begun dabbing around the light fixtures.

“You know I have people who can be paid to do this for you.” The alpha commented dryly. Sherlock grinned.

“And miss the fun of seeing you get your hands dirty?”

Q grinned to himself and fired off a quick text to James that the living room would be finished come hell or high water, before resuming his efforts on the room.

 

-00Q00-

Whatever James had expected to come home to, it was not to the sight of three Holmes brothers peaceably sitting in his newly lime-green living room drinking tea and eating cake, each smeared with green paint. Mycroft still somehow managed to look presentable, impressively.

“James!” Q perked up at his entrance and pushed himself off the couch with some effort to pull his mate into a kiss with a little ‘mwa’ noise. “What do you think?” Q gestured around, absurdly proud. James grinned.

“Not quite what I expected.” Q turned to him, a bit stricken.

“Oh god do you hate it? Please tell me if you do because I can-mmf!” James released his mate’s mouth.

“Its perfect. It’s you. Just give me some time to get used to it?” Q grinned a bit sheepishly and looked up at James demurely.

“Coffee? Irish?”

“I could get used to that.” James smirked. Q batted him gently and went over to fix some whisky-imbued coffee.

“Good day James?” Mycroft queried, pompously gesturing the alpha take a seat. In his own home no less. Some things would never change.

“Good enough… defending England, saving the Queen, the usual.” Sherlock rolled his eyes.

John turned up half an hour after James, armed with a miniature rainforest of plants and a grin. It was one of the stranger collections of people the agent had been part of. James bickered with Sherlock and John for a bit, Mycroft impressing upon Q the importance of pregnancy classes and health decisions when it came to the birth. It was strange, interesting, good. Q turned to James at one point, a wide beaming smile on his face, and that sold it for the alpha.

That night he tucked himself around Q in bed, nuzzling into him and holding him close. The omega curled his hands around the blonde’s back and begun kneading into work-tense shoulders.

It was James’ first day back on full work tomorrow, and he didn’t want to leave Q.

“How’s Six?”

“Your branch keep asking after you, and tomorrow my two new recruits get crowned.” Q’s fingers changed direction thoughtfully.

“Big day.” He reflected.

“Mm.” James wasn’t sure how he felt about it, really. On one hand he was immensely proud of the two he’d picked to go out and gain their licence officially, on the other he knew what was waiting for them out there.

He was also jealous. His life was definitely not the same anymore, and he missed the travelling hugely.

“Q?”

“Mm?”

“When you go on leave, I want to take you to Scotland.” There was that surprised and uneasy pause from Q. “Driving, of course.” He added, in case Q thought James would dare take him on a plane.

“I’ll be pretty big by then.” Q pointed out, James knew the man well enough to know he meant he’d be pretty uncomfortable by then.

“I don’t drive like a maniac all the time.” James smirked.

“Oh, well, that’s a relief then.” Q quipped back, smile evident. There was quiet for a moment before James took a small breath, stroking over the smooth skin of Q’s chest.

“I want you to see it. I want to take you places, explore, adventure…” Q sighed out and stilled his hands, kissing James’ head softly, leaving his lips there.

“I know you miss it.” James didn’t reply, just waiting, hoping, but not sure what to expect. “Okay, okay if I’m well enough. I’m not sleeping in a tent, but I’d like to see it, with you. I know it’s important, so, that’s important for me, too.” James shifted up and kissed him, reading some apprehension in Q’s eyes.

“You’ll be safe with me, its not going to be like a mission.” He raised an eyebrow, and Q huffed out a laugh.

“I know. I just, don’t travel. The only times I’ve moved are when I had to and that horrible time in Ireland with Sherlock, which I barely remember as it is. But I’d like to, with you, it would be good to see more things, within reason.” James grinned at Q’s shifty expression.

“I promise to find you a hotel with an Internet connection as long as you promise to leave it with me each day.” Q laughed, mock-offended.

“Oi! Cheeky.” James wasn’t fooled. He could see the relief in Q’s eyes. He didn’t mind Q’s crutches, as long as they could get out in the world. Together would be different, but James couldn’t help but be excited at the prospect.

 

-00Q00-

 

 _“How did it go?”_ Q voiced from the other end of the phone, James walking from M’s office towards his own.

“Without a hitch. Two new recruits. Double oh’s Ten and Eleven.”

_“So much for exclusivity. And surely they should become just ‘Oh ten and Eleven’… if it wasn’t for the two kills thing that would suggest a definite end to the double oh’s around the nine hundred and ninety nine mark-“_

“Semantics, Q.” James pointed out teasingly. “I hope you’re not having this conversation in Tesco.” Q laughed.

_“No, just our house. I’m re-wiring some of the electrics to work with that lock system we wanted configured on the garden gate… what are we going to even do with a garden? It already looks overgrown and Sherlock’s deposited another three plants around the house.”_

Q was bored, that much was obvious, the rambling and the tinkering, he’d do it anyway, but it had become an obsessive need to fill the void his work had left. James worried nearly constantly about it, about him.

“Q, tell me you’re not wielding power tools when on bed rest.” He asked, pinching the bridge of his nose and elbowing his office door open. Q simply laughed at the threat, breezily.

 _“Oh relax, I made John and Sherlock do all the heavy lifting and I’m taking breaks.”_ James grimaced as he heard an electric drill whirr exuberantly into life in the background.

“Don’t those two ever work?”

_“…Apparently not, and John’s only locum-ing in between dastardly crimes.”_

“Keep Sherlock away from the power tools.”

_“Oh, so you would rather I wield them then?”_

“ _Q_ …”

_“I know, I know. Only teasing. I am taking it easy, James, really. I’d just quite like to get back to work now.”_

The worst thing was, James couldn’t even blame his mate, nor fault him; the alpha was the same after all.

“It’ll come soon, Q. The more you rest the quicker you’ll have the world at your fingertips again.”

_“I hope so, because responding only in calls or emails is beginning to make me feel rather like a secretary.”_

James laughed softly, and sat in his office, swinging feet onto the desk.

“Alec’s due back soon. Think he’ll like the house?”

_“Well, he does have his own room available… As long as he doesn’t mine the colour ‘aubergine’ I expect he’ll be happy.”_

Q’s colouring choices would never cease to amuse James. At least he had the bedroom, classy and tasteful and luxurious. He’d even managed to bring some style to Q’s mish-mash of the spectrum elsewhere, though he couldn’t deny that Q’s rooms contained a certain charm that was undeniable.

Combined, it wasn’t a half bad effort.

Besides, they could always re-decorate.

 

-00Q00-

 

The weekend seemed to revolve around the final painting touch-ups. Namely: Blasty’s infancy area and the to-be pup’s bedroom upstairs.

After spending so much of his week away from Q at MI6, after nearly a month of being in the same house all day, every day, James was finding himself hard-pressed to detach from Q in any way, shape or form. When finally achieved however, painting the pinstriped red-white-blue room with Q proved to be incredibly satisfying and more than a little entertaining.

There was also just something about watching Q move with his big belly getting in the way a little that was incredibly alluring and endearing in one.

Q paused to stand back at one point, brushing slightly sweaty hair from his eyes as he looked around their walk in wardrobe.

“It’ll be classy, of course.” Q reflected, hoped, looking at the half-finished effect.

“Naturally.” James confirmed, adding another swathe of red.

Actually, the pinstriped look came out rather well. A bit Naval, a bit tongue in cheek, and just a little bit perfect.

 

-00Q00-

 

Sunday they ate out, mostly because the house needed to fumigate from all the paint. Q had also phoned M earlier to report, and request starting up work part-time on Monday. Mallory had agreed to have Q come in for a few hours, and only a few hours, and see how everything went from there.

Thus, their evening turned into a celebration of sorts, James even booked a luxury hotel for them to spend the night in after. Amazing what he could get into short notice, and that Q could still be grudgingly impressed by it.

Caught up on the high of excellent food, spoils of luxury and a skyline to die for, Q positively pounced on James, sending the alpha to the bed with a pleased bark of laughter.

“I think, Mr. Bond, that you’ve earned a reward for your behaviour of late.” James couldn’t help but grin deviously at Q’s sinful smirk of dark lips.

“Lucky me. Is it to die for?” Q swung a leg over James’ to straddle the man’s hips, looking like the devil’s temptation in his bespoke suit, before sinuously running his hands up the alpha’s waist-chest-shoulders in one seamless stretch followed by his body.

James brought his hands to curl around the omega’s thighs as he admired the arch of back, the press of bodies, Q’s belly the only inconsistency in the aspect, and that a delightful one.

Q’s long hands came to clasp behind James’ neck, skin cool in comparison to Q’s hot breath and tongue languidly teasing the shell of his ear.

“Lets find out, shall we?”

James would later struggle to remember what he found more impressive; Q somehow managing to bind both his wrists together in the tie from around James’ own neck –the alpha’s already bound to the headboard with his own- whilst he rode his mate into unbelievable, ecstatic oblivion… or the fact that watching and feeling James’ climax seemed to render Q nearly unconscious after his own.

The loose knots were easy to escape from, but Q slumped down so gently that James merely cocked an elbow out to support his mate’s head, turning to gaze for a few sleepy blinks at the man asleep on top of him, framed by the lights of London.

Going under with satiated exhaustion from his own orgasm, James’ last thoughts were that oh yes, he would definitely be taking Q travelling, if this was the effect luxury had on his quartermaster.

“Definitely worth a tip.” He muttered drowsily into the still air, slight smile remaining in place as he slept.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soo this chappie seems a little random with all the odds and ends! The next few are proving a little tricksy false to plan, so if you wondrous people have any burning pregnancy/character/scenario ideas chuck em my way! Something might hit inspiration...  
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the myriad of bits, and thank you for all the tasty comments last week. I ate them. And they were good.
> 
> Love you all and see you soon! (with some luck and not being blown into a wall by the GALE FORCE WINDS tomorrow O.o)


	32. H0: What are friends for?; H1: What are family for? H2; Both are pretty good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Am I good or am I good? Yeah. I'm good. Halloween delights for you all!... not that anything has been less like Halloween in all its life... xD
> 
> Anyway, enjoy!
> 
> Judge Me moment of the week: I may or may not have written some of this whilst listening to xmas music... It gives me feels! So sue me! Anyway, hopefully that makes you all feel a little bit better about your selves and your levels of self restraint: I have none. ;D

Returning to MI6 was something of a mixed bag. Q was eager to get back to his work, his team, his life, but at the same time was a touch nervous.

It had been just over a month since he last stepped foot in branch. A month of being practically out of contact and in very poor health.

He’d also done a lot of growing since then, and whatever pregnancy had been unobtrusive back then would now surely stare everyone in the face. Q fretted with his tie, a knot he hadn’t had to do in just as long, and anxiously smoothed down his cardigan again.

Yes, he was only going in for three hours, including having a meeting with M, and medical for their own records, and psych which was mandatory, but he didn’t want to look anything less than his usual self.

“You look fine love.” James soothed, Q wished his looks were the problem, well, other than the obvious belly protrusion. He just hoped that it could all pass without fuss or hindrance.

Medical and psych were first, and Q was dreading their evaluations be unfavourable.

“They’ll be lenient, they know your situation.” James offered when Q voiced his concerns.

“That’s what I’m afraid of, that they know my condition.” His mate just kissed him and led the way outside. Q followed, checking only one last time that he had everything he could need with him… and praying to anyone listening that he wouldn’t suffer a rush of fatigue and collapse half way through his pointedly short stint.

Q refused to question whether his branch would be happy to see him; they’d gone above and beyond to show their loyalty. He just hoped he didn’t let them down.

 

-00Q00-

 

James went to meet Q after his scheduled appointments with M, medical and psych. Tanner had neatly phoned him to suggest that Q might benefit an escort down to his branch. The Chief of Staff was not someone who you ignored the insights of; even if James hadn’t already been loathe leaving Q to the vampires in the first place.

He found Q looking tired and a bit wan and shaky, slowly trailing and meandering down a corridor from medical that led to a vending machine.

“James.” Q said in tired surprise, looking up before resuming feeding coins into the machine, James wordlessly took over, instincts going haywire to provide even the slightest thing for his pregnant mate. That Q stood back and lent against the wall without protest or chuckle made him alert.

“What happened?” James asked gruffly, turning to Q and rubbing the slightly slumped omega’s shoulders, already making a mental checklist of which quack was most likely to have upset his mate. Rogers, probably, the man was an arse. And maybe that blond nurse from medical had poked too hard.

“I want malteasers.” Q pleaded quietly, not making eye contact. Trying not to swear at the state of him James turned around and jabbed for C5 roughly. “I hate word association.” Sympathy pooled in James’ stomach, remembering his own, followed by dread at the results of said exam.

“What did they tell you?” Q sighed and bent to retrieve the dispatched chocolates, opening the packet with careful deliberation to clear his mind.

“Nothing, but their faces said it all, can’t play poker for shit.” James didn’t laugh at the joke, instead keeping up the circular movement of his thumbs whilst Q shoved a handful of the treats into his mouth, eyes glistening threateningly.

“Probably plotting some snide way to overthrow me, they’ve been on my case since becoming the youngest ever quartermaster after a lethal explosion killed six of my colleagues. Been expecting me to crack under the pressure any day now. But I wont let it happen. I wont.”

“You know you wont crack, Q, you thrive off your work. Everyone with any sense knows that. Your staff, your agents, M. That’s all you need… Hell, those people think _I’m_ crazy.”

Q couldn’t help but laugh a bit at that, finally making eye contact again.

“Sorry I’m so wet recently-“

“No, Q. You’re unbelievable. I’d had more than one month the last time I went for word association and I still stormed out half way through.”

“Yes,” Q reflected with a little smile. “They do seem rather perturbed by the continued thriving of our relationship. It’s almost offensive.” James chuckled.

“I think they’d be happy for me if we didn’t go against all the thousands of pounds of learning their degrees cost them.” Q laughed a little at that, and brushed James’ cheek with fond affection and gratitude. “Let’s go to your branch, five minutes catching up with the missions and you’ll feel right as rain.” Q smiled at him, and took James hand, letting himself be pulled gently forwards into movement.

The alpha could tell Q was still shaken, unsettled, maybe distressed at the swarm of emotion on his still-recovering systems. Rather than take him home, James had to take him to the potential lion’s den of stress: Q Branch. For Q, it was also home, for both of them MI6 served as surrogate. The alpha had little doubt that the whir of machinery and the busyness of the branch would do more for Q’s state of mind and self right now than all the nests, attention and psychologists in the world.

Q was a working omega, who happened to be pregnant and mated and happily in love and settling into a new home. Their work was who they were, shaped them, and Q had left under unpleasant circumstances.

Getting back in the driving seat was a boost and a relief, no matter whether it was going out and being active for James or masterminding a mission for Q. And even if nothing else, the alpha always preferred to feel tired from a job –well done or otherwise- than from doing nothing at all.

The walk to Q branch was short, and although Q tensed beside him and even positioned himself slightly behind James, they walked in together without pause for fret.

R looked up from the command station; not Q’s desk, which remained unoccupied and tidy, and stood, grinning.

To both of the pair’s unending surprise, the man began to clap.

It didn’t take long for the entire branch to follow suit.

James grinned smugly as Q stared around at the standing ovation he was receiving for simply returning to branch. There was something so utterly astounded and amazed in his expression that it was a little heartbreaking.

Gain an ego for his mental aptitude though Q had, he would maybe never get used to being rewarded for talent by others.

 

-00Q00-

 

Q hadn’t noticed it until he started working again, on a very part-time basis, just how much he had been eating at home. Odd bits every so often, a banana here, a chocolate bar there.

Half the time back in his office, the omega found himself on the look out for unsuspecting food that a soon-to-be deprived minion left in his vicinity.

He didn’t even feel ashamed, or really notice he’d yet again walked over to Diana’s desk and casually eaten half of her sandwich before popping over to Luke’s and stealing a mug of tea. Occasionally he looked over and wondered what his staff looked so stricken about upon returning to their desks… only to find the evidence in his hand.

A little embarrassing, to say the least. But even the post-stealing shame did little to prevent the next attack or dissuade the hunger.

Because hungry he was. Constantly. It was actually a little distracting. And yet, because the hunger had to mean that both he and Blasty were healthy, that his pup was growing and consuming heartily, Q couldn’t find himself to feel too bad about the constant hunger and pilfering of food.

He was doing his work, and enjoying being back immensely. Catching up had been easier than he’d thought and other than the hunger and an aggravating increase in carpel tunnel syndrome from all those charming pregnancy hormones, leading him to have to shake his wrists out every other minute when typing, it was good to be back.

By Thursday, the minions had even started cluing on to his casual food stealing habits, and nearly everyone was bringing in extra food just to supplement their boss… yet another endearing feat from his branch.

In the attitude of give and take Q had taken to giving himself some of the more boring and tedious coding projects on the side to do at home, thus easing some of the strain put on his branch.

Thursday also had Q’s first 00 call since he’d left. R had been managing marvellously, and Q had simply watched the one that had come through on Tuesday from 002. The beta had handled it well, evidently still getting used to it, and not quite as fast as 002 may have liked, but an admirable performance. Since then, Q had suggested that R take time off whenever Q was in the office, given that the man’s over time had gone above and beyond this month.

R was relieved, and somewhat surprisingly called to leave with 005. Apparently, the two were now living together, although Q wasn’t sure whether they were in a relationship. He merely smiled and waved off the pair of them.

001’s call had been tense and dramatic and thrilling. Skills nipped back to him without fail and Q was opening doors and commanding from across continents without a hitch, and relishing in it.

_“Good to have you back, quartermaster.”_ 001 commented after he was on a road headed south towards safety with the target’s body safely in the concealed boot compartment of the car.

“Good to be back, double oh.” 001 rarely smiled, but there was a lick of amusement in his melodic tone.

_“Your branch will be relieved. M nearly had to suspend double oh eight after what he did to R, the man’s been unmanageable ever since.”_ Q grimaced to himself.

“Yes, I heard about that.” Three weeks ago, after wrapping up a mission in Japan, 008 had called back to branch, seemingly to abate his boredom and gain access to a stolen laptop in one fell swoop. The laptop had nothing to do with a mission, and everything to do with a female beta 008 appeared to be stalking.

R had, understandably, been shocked and appalled and refused to be involved in any such underhanded scheme. Of course, R hadn’t met 008 at his worst yet, nor had to be the one to handle the agent, something Q usually only put upon himself.

There had been several inexcusable insults, a fair few demands for Q, and not a small number of threats. R, under huge pressure and stress as it was, had broken down and been rescued by 005, who terminated the call and informed M, the Q branch staff largely too stressed with what they had heard to do anything even vaguely productive about it.

There just seemed to be something about 008 that got under all of their skins irreparably.

M had since been running all of 008’s missions personally, along with Tanner to handle the information transfer from Q branch.

008 was only getting worse, more out of control and spiralling somewhere that left Q unnerved. It wasn’t a situation that was getting any better.

Q had talked to R about the event, and clearly the beta wanted no part in handling 008 again. The quartermaster had made the man swear that any call from the agent that came through would be patched straight through to him, and clarified this with M. Until they had some solution for the man’s out of control behaviour, Q would not have his branch jeopardised by the alpha.

_“Something’s going to come to a head with that one soon.”_ 001 remarked, and Q heeded it only too well. When 00’s got wary of each other, it was wise to pay attention.

However, for tonight, Q refused to let it weigh on his mind. Alec had returned this morning and James had insisted the alpha come round for drinks at the new house. Q might feel miserable about being unable to drink, but really, actually, he was just happy to be seeing Alec again. The man had become somewhat intrinsic, and Q was rather hoping that Blasty might put on a little movement show for Alec, should the man want to feel it. Certainly Q attributed a large portion of his relatively swift and hitch-less recovery to James’ best friend.

His mate had left early to go and pick Alec up, and Q had agreed to do an afternoon-evening shift today in order to cover 001’s mission. Q packed up as the night shift begun peeling in, all of them ecstatic to see him, given that they only knew he had returned, not having a shift that coincided with his yet. Q spent some time chatting to them individually or in groups, touching base, seeing their personal projects that he hadn’t managed to catch up on yet or giving feedback on the ones that had. It took a while, but Q left feeling elated as well as pleasantly tired.

It was a touch stormy outside, and Q decided to be good for James’ nerves for once and take a car home. Q drove himself, sitting in the back of company cars had never particularly pleased him, and it was nice to drive home in the dark and rain, knowing that his hopefully unscathed pack would be happily relaxing at home and waiting for him.

Q parked in the garage space they had bought opposite their house, next to the Aston. The omega had plans to build an escape tunnel to it from the house since hearing from James about the old priest hole at Skyfall lodge.

The lights of the house were on, and Q took care not to slip crossing the wet road, or anything else that might potentially ruin the evening.

“Hello!” Q called coming in, shutting the door behind him and pausing to kick off shoes.

“There he is!” Q looked up just in time to see Alec striding forwards before he was hoisted into the air with a yelp of surprise, looking down at twin cheeky green eyes.

“Put me down.” Q demanded, hands grabbing the alpha’s arms for support.

“No.” Alec grinned and proceeded to nuzzle Q’s belly. With a mewling squawk and plenty of squirming the omega resigned himself to being the unwilling object of Alec’s bizarre tendencies.

“Alec, let him alone.” James chided calmly, emerging from upstairs with a grin and something else in his eyes. The other alpha retracted with a pout, still holding Q aloft beneath the arms without sign of strain.

“Didn’t your mother teach you to share?”

“He’s not sharing me. Put me down before I eat you.” Q tried again, restarting his wriggling. Alec deposited him on the ground gently with a laugh.

“Hungry are we?”

“More than you could imagine.” Almost before Q could blink James was beside him with an apple, looking vaguely concerned.

“Dinner’s soon, can you manage?” taking the apple, and a large bite, Q nodded with a smile.

“Not a problem. I’m going to shower, be back soon.” Alec reached out to tug him with a small movement that suggested want for interaction with no desire to actually hurt.

“I thought you’d want to nest…” The alpha trailed off, looking a little disappointed. A bit bemused by Alec’s neediness, Q laughed gently and eased out of the man’s grasp, James remaining obviously in the background, overseeing in a strange way.

“Are you kidding? I’ve been in the R&D lab most of the day. I don’t want to contaminate the blankets. After showering, then yes. Definitely.” Alec seemed suitably placated, grumble-growling lightly in pleasure and turning back to the kitchen. James seemed relieved too, looking after Alec for a moment. Q shrugged out of his jacket and turned out to head upstairs. James caught him when he was a few steps up.

“Q.” the omega turned to him, frowning a little at the slightly nervous expression on his alpha’s face, an emotion very out of place on his stoic mate.

“Everything okay?” James shrugged a bit and rubbed his once-injured shoulder in a calming gesture, moving a bit closer.

“I’m sorry about Alec, he’s harmless, you understand.” Q frowned deeper.

“Of course. James what’s happened?” His voice became a touch quieter, sharper, more like the quartermaster than the mate at the thought of threat to his agents. James huffed out a long breath and put his hand on the banister as if to centre himself and somehow lock Q into place, looking somewhere on the wall before back to his omega.

“They kept him in solitary for a while, not too long, but, enough. A few days. And they were all alphas. Christ he was wary of me when I went to pick him up. Just… don’t mind him being close, will you? If you can, I mean. If it makes you uncomfortable then, but as you’re an omega and I think he needs the contact-“

“James,” Q halted his mate softly, voice sad in understanding. Having a known and friendly omega around after that must be a bit of a relief. For god’s sake Q could do that much.

“Its fine, I understand. Just let me shower, and then I’ll be right down, okay?” Q smiled, and saw the worries clear slightly from James’ face with a relieved breath.

“Alright… I can remember what it used to be like, and I’d rather have him here with us than out there making bad decisions.” Q could only look on with warmth. His James was a much better man than he ever gave himself credit for, a much better friend.

“Its alright, darling. Go back to him, I wont be long.” James nodded in relief and gratitude, and left to go check on friend and food. Q watched him leave fondly before turning to hurry through his shower.

Feeling relaxed and clean, if a bit tired still, Q ventured back downstairs in pyjamas and a jumper. Alec had seen him in worse, and given the state of things it didn’t sound like they’d be off anywhere tonight.

“Hey,” Alec greeted with a grin when he came back into the room.

“Hello again, had a good trip back I trust?” Q asked as he came over, James smiled at him as Alec headed with almost nervous and yet demanding excitement towards the pile of blankets and pillows he’d managed to amass on the sofa, holding one up hopefully.

“It was alright, got a good lift at the end. I thought we could start setting up before dinner?” Q didn’t need to catch James’ silent plea of eyes to know what was needed. Alec did smell a bit desperate, unsure and shaky, now that he was looking for it.

“You might have to do most of the large pillows, my wrists aren’t enjoying pregnancy.” Both alphas looked over with sharp worry. “Just a bit of swelling, tingling, perfectly normal, mildly annoying.”

“Alec, catch.” James opened one of their many and well stocked medical kits and threw over a small bundle of material. Alec did catch, and unwound the two wrist supports before carefully taking Q’s wrists and meeting his eyes.

“Let me know if I hurt you.” He said, before gently rolling on the tubigrip.

It was helpful, actually, and allowed Q to help out with the creation of a rather bizarre nest. Alec, usually so good at planning, seemed to just be putting what he needed where he needed. Including Q at times, who was shuffled around and generally brushed against as much as possible.

Dinner was ready before they could finish, and Q sat down to find a delicious feast of pasta that finally filled him up and left him ridiculously sleepy.

Q had enough nous to settle on the couch as Alec happily continued the nest and James flicked on the TV, nursing a glass of vodka alongside his friend.

Surrounded by nest, the three of them sat and watched a collection of Marilyn Monroe films that were on in black and white. Blasty began rumbling half way through, and Q nudged Alec to his right, gesturing to his belly and feeling a little foolish, what if Alec had no excitement for this sort of thing?

“The pup’s moving, if you, you know, want to…” Q trailed off, but Alec grinned with open delight and rubbed his hands together comedically to warm them before baring the omega’s belly and resting both hands on the bump.

“Jesus James, have you felt this?” Alec asked, voice loud with a myriad of positive emotions.

“You think I’d let you feel first?” James countered with, pulling an amused face. Amidst the normal shifting movements Q felt something a little more specific.

“Oh!”

“What?”

“Ha! That almost felt like a kick!” Alec grinned, Q turned to James, eyes a little wide.

“I think it was.” James leapt for his stomach and joined Alec there; both of them warm against him as they crowed over the pup’s next few, very slight kicks, followed by a return to rumbling, and then stillness.

“Blimey.” Alec commented with a grin and breath. Q took a moment just to lean his head back and breathe, letting himself calm from the dual excitement and somewhat nervous happiness. Another milestone; they were coming all the time now. Another sign that their pup was just happy and fine. Absurdly, emotion welled up in his chest-throat-eyes, and Q found himself swiping away moisture and trying quite hard not to just cry from sheer hormonal joy and the strange happy-nerves of anticipation.

“Q?” James asked gently, reaching out to stroke his hair.

“Fine, fine.” Q flapped, waving away the concern. “Just some hormones, don’t want to cry like a teenage fan at a boy band concert.” He explained, and Alec laughed as James huffed, both alphas shifted a bit closer, postures somehow adjusting in ways that made them supporting Q’s body weight and encouraging him to lean without really doing anything. The omega doubted they even knew they were doing it, watching the pair of them together was always rather impressive; like two hunting wolves perfectly in sync.

The wave of emotion quieted, and the atmosphere was nice, and when his eyes started to drop, Q just let himself lean and fall asleep, happily accepting Alec’s offered shoulder and two hands curling over his stomach.

Next morning, when Q woke within the nest to James’ light stroking of his hair and the smell of a fried breakfast, Alec away in a shower somewhere, his mate turned to him with something deep in his eyes.

“That was the best thing you could have possibly done for him.”

“Hnnm?” Q articulated intellectually, shifting into a more awake state and kissing James’ palm.

“You were defenceless, and you were vulnerable, and you trusted him. Showing you felt safe enough around him to sleep on him, he might not say it, but it did more to help him last night than you could know.”

A bit humbled, and bashful, Q just reached out to stroke James’ face and pull him close enough for a kiss.

“I’m glad I could help.” The look in James’ eyes told Q just how much it meant to James, too.

 

-00Q00-

 

“Mycroft, where are you taking us?” James questioned with amused curiosity. Indeed, Q was looking up at the rather imposing spectacle of Windsor Castle and wondering much the same thing. Granted with a bit more giddy worry.

“It came to my attention that you still have not formally accepted a midwife. Nor have you booked into a single antenatal class.” It was amazing the levels of unimpressed disappointment Mycroft could weave into a sentence.

“Everything I’ve looked at says we don’t need to start going to those until I’m about ten weeks due-“

“Yes but you haven’t booked any!” Mycroft nearly erupted in disparagingly frantic worry. James and Q leant away a little bit from the Mycroft-mother hen being unleashed. With a tight sigh and reshuffle, the alpha managed to work himself back under control.

“I have sworn to provide you with nothing but the best.”

Q looked at the castle, looked at his brother, looked back, and again.

“…No, no surely… Oh no _Mycroft_ -“

“It is for the best. No one can take care of you better, if Royalty employed them-“ It seemed to click for James in the background.

“The _Royal_ midwife?”

“You want the Royal midwife, the midwife of the _Duchess of Cambridge_ to be _my_ midwife!? Mycroft no! I’m-“

“Perfectly entitled to the same healthcare as everyone else.”

“But that-“ Q pointed harshly out the window at the approaching doors “-is not ‘everybody else’, Mycroft! I’m her Majesty’s Secret Service not her Majesty’s Secret Family!” Mycroft raised one imperious eyebrow.

“And I’m sure it is a mark of your service that you are happily deigned such a privilege. Now, come along, it wouldn’t do to keep the lady waiting, after all she has the infant Prince to attend to at noon.”

 

-00Q00-

 

James watched with no small amount of amusement as Mycroft had to all but wrestle his squirming omega brother out of the car, protests flooding in hushed tones.

“No I’m not-you can’t-Mycroft will you stop this is ridiculous-I don’t need-who the bloody hell put you up to this anyway?!”

“I was wondering much the same thing.” James murmured, smirk just hiding from his voice as he exited the now quiet car.

Mycroft and Q were making a barely proper trek across the sandy gravelled driveway to the front doors, Q all but digging his heels in as Mycroft frog-marched him forwards.

“Mycroft, no!”

“Do stand up straight Aster you’re causing a scene, and would it have killed you to brush your hair?”

“I did, but sorry, I didn’t get the memo that I’d be going to the _house of the Queen_!”

“A suit wouldn’t have been remiss either.”

“Warning, Mycroft! You need to give some bloody warning-“

James looked at the stone face of the castle beyond as he shut the car door and put his hands in his pockets. A quiet tap from the driver’s side darkened window bid him look down, an eyebrow raised expectantly as the glass wound down with a whir.

“I was wondering when you’d show, you’ve been keeping your head down lately.” Eve smiled up at him, cheeky and mischievous with a hint of barely-concealed pride beneath her jaunty chauffer’s cap and styled hair.

“A girl must be allowed her secrets, James. Besides, I knew you two would be all over me for information if you could.” James matched her grin and registered the happy twinkle in her eye, the ingrained shadows gone from beneath, skin the picture of health.

“Being pampered suits you, it seems.” He teased, and she grinned back.

“It’s all about knowing when to accept a good thing, that’s the ticket to happiness… Takes some people a little longer to learn…” Their eyes drifted back to Q and Mycroft, the younger of which was trying to squirm away like a rather pudgy jellyfish whilst the older scowled and berated and generally tried –and nearly failed- to corral him back into some semblance of decent behaviour.

“Sorry about all this, I hope Q wont mind too much, it was too good an opportunity to miss, and besides, you two really should have the best.”

“Oh, he’s going to skin you alive, you should check your bank accounts.” James grinned, and Eve swiftly concealed a moment of horror, James’ smile spread. In the background Q began beating at Mycroft with his own umbrella and the alpha began causing quite his own ruckus to get it back and desist the omega’s behaviour. Sensing things were getting out of hand, James turned to go.

“Excuse me, oh, and stick around later, will you? Be good to catch up.” James grinned, and turned from walking backwards as Eve called quietly out the window.

“Fiend! You know I’d never miss hearing about how this goes.” James just grinned to himself as he stalked up the driveway and to his mate, wrapping arms around his swelling Q and tugging him away from Mycroft gently, resting his head on the younger man’s shoulder.

“Come on love, think of Rumbles, do it for our pup.” Q grumbled and whined a bit and wriggled a lot.

“There’s nothing wrong with Dr. Darcy, or our choices, or our pregnancy-“

“No one’s saying that, Aster, I’m sure you’ve done marvellously-“

“ _Then why are we here_!” Hissed Q, getting entirely too worked up for James’ liking. Q, in his opinion, should be kept relaxed and happy and fed all the time, especially when pregnant.

“Science?” Q paused at possibly one of his favourite words.

“What?” The omega turned to him, arms lowering into a more calm position.

“Isn’t this a good counter hypothesis? Or un-factored variable?” Q’s eyes flickered around.

“…Yes…” He admitted, slowly, cogs whirring into life. Mycroft looked endlessly relieved. “I suppose it is… Alright then, lets see what Miss Midwife’s got for us.”

Q stepped forwards and to the door, a doorman on the other side wordlessly opening it as if he sensed the ruckus was over.

“Hmm, service, that’s one point for the Queen.” Q murmured under his breath, nodding demurely to the doorman and stepping in with his thanks. Mycroft took a moment to shake his head in wonder.

“I confess I don’t know how you do it. After a lifetime of never witnessing Aster fighting or frustrated, I find myself at a loss with how to quell it… Good work, Mr. Bond.” James rolled his eyes a bit.

“Hardly work, is it?” Because of all people he had met, Vesper included, it was always Q that was the easiest to read and consol or comfort. He hoped the same was true in the reverse. The alpha could always trust Q to come round without an awful amount of fighting, and to stand his ground when James himself was unwittingly leading them into disaster. They worked, in that way.

“No, I suppose you do make it look rather easy…” Mycroft studied him for a moment, and James rather feared the man was trying to somehow copy and paste the blonde alpha’s mannerisms and techniques into his own arsenal.

Christ but they were a frightening family.

Trying to shake the thought off, James followed his mate into the hallowed ground of the castle, and hoped that with all the years of service the pair of them had put in together, this midwife would be worth her salt.

 

-00Q00-

 

She was, as it turned out. James had watched her careful handling of Q, impressed with her ability to manage a natural rapport… Nurse Julienne, as she was called, was just older than James, calm, and had seen more births than they both had Christmases, by a long shot.

James liked her well enough. She was a beta like their doctor, and a calm seeming individual.

Her talk of birth plans scared the living daylights out of both mates, with talks of deciding on painkillers and agreements to operations if necessary and conclusions of who was allowed in the room. It was extensive, to say the least, and left them with a lot to think about. She also seemed a bit concerned about Q’s distaste for C-Section, but as even Mycroft stiffened at the phrase, James doubted it would ever be anything other than a last resort.

In fact when pushed on the subject, Q had looked to _Mycroft_ with a whine rather than James, and the eldest Holmes had swiftly and without room for debate requested that they moved on.

The operations that brought Sherlock and Q into the world must have been horrible things to ingrain this level of distaste in two otherwise rational individuals.

For a moment James thought whether he should ask the Mallory contingent about the whole affair. After all, Villiers, or rather Daniel, would have gone through either C-Section or labour, obviously. There was a wealth of knowledge right there… Perhaps he should attempt to get the two omegas alone together for a while…

“Have you thought at all about what position you might like to give birth in?” Q held up his hands and waved them a little as he stood, holding one out to stop the midwife as she made to continue.

“Let’s not think about that one. Just normal, just put down everything as normal.” There was a gentle smile.

“I’m afraid ‘normal’ can be relative, still, there’s no need to rush.” She looked over at James. “Why not try some of the different options at home, see what you find comfortable.” She suggested, and James carefully kept his reaction to a minimum.

“We’ll look into it.” He replied, neutrally, seeing Q begin to frazzle. She accepted the response without question and turned back to Q.

“Alright, the last thing I’d like to go through with you today is breastfeeding, have you been given sufficient information, do you feel?”

“I think so.” Q responded, sitting down a little stiffly. James wordlessly reached an arm around Q to squeeze his shoulders. The alpha couldn’t deny; he wanted Q to be the one feeding their baby as much as possible. Best chance and all that… Not to mention it just curled something in him pleasantly.

“Good, in that case I’m sure you’re aware you’ll struggle to feed your pup entirely by yourself, but-“

“I’d like to do what I can, anyway, I think.” Q answered, fiddling and shifting a little, Nurse Juliette smiled and made a note before closing up her clipboard.

“Well, that’s quite enough to be going on, I’d like to meet you again in another couple of weeks if possible, until then, please go through these when you have the time,“ she handed over a pack that Q took with interest, seeming to contain a heap of pamphlets, information leaflets and other research materials. “That should give you some help with decision making hopefully, and please do ring if you have any questions or worries in the meantime. I’ll contact your doctor and collaborate from their point, and see you in a couple of weeks.” She smiled the end of their session, and exchanged cordial farewells and a few sentences with a very happy Mycroft.

James turned to Q whilst the other alpha was out of earshot.

“I know your brother’s keen, but I draw the line at having him in the delivery room with us.” Q snorted and choked on the glass of orange juice he’d been provided with. James helped him through the spluttering, smiling candidly over his shoulder as his mate tried not to get fruit juice on the Queen’s carpet. He imagined Q’s reaction meant that he agreed.

 

-00Q00-

 

Mycroft had the decency, and trickery, to take them out for tea after the midwife. The place was upmarket, classy, and of course delicious.

Q mutinously felt his grumpiness disappear, although it did make a minor re-emergence when Eve revealed herself from the driver’s seat effortlessly and admitted proud responsibility for the whole affair.

Still, he couldn’t be too mad, really, they were just being thoughtful… in their own, fierce fashion.

Truly Q had not anticipated that Eve, or anyone, could make Mycroft worse. But apparently the female alpha had heard Mycroft pondering about his brother and midwives and suitability and just egged him on for gold. Mycroft, apparently, quite enjoyed having a co-conspirator.

_Should have seen that one coming_. Q reflected, after all, what had he and Sherlock managed to find and covert if not the same? James drawing Q into breaking the rules for the old M, John readily invading crime scenes with Sherlock for a flare of danger… Yes, really should have seen that one coming.

What the pair of them would be capable of, Q had no idea. It scared him a little, but for now the cake made up for it. Even if Eve did keep trying to push sandwiches on him disapprovingly. At least he had James pocketing spare delicacies under the table with a wink and Mycroft leaping to his defence.

“Aster can eat all the cake he wants.” Mycroft announced imperiously, and Q grinned, as his brother pushed another slice of cheesecake over.

“Here here, and so can my brother.” Q agreed, flourishing some fudge cake at Mycroft.

Eve’s smile was something Q had never seen before from her, soft, indulgent, fond, and without a hint of tease, and directed solely at his brother.

It rather knocked him a little dumb for the rest of the meal.

In fact, he was rendered yet more speechless when upon their leaving the café, Eve turned to Mycroft by the car and the two leant in for a casual, smiled kiss before the female alpha hopped with a grin back into the driver’s seat.

Q stared openly as Mycroft hummed getting into the car. He had met plenty of his oldest brother’s brief encounters before, Mycroft used to bring them back to the house after all. At the time he had hated them, largely, because they were strangers, and Sherlock hated them because they insinuated sex; which alarmed him. His brother’s dislike seemed more than enough reason for Q to avoid them at the time.

Never once had he seen Mycroft particularly more than cordial towards them. They were mere pawns; in Eve he had clearly found a match.

“Christ, am I going to have to give her the brother talk?” Q wondered in mild horror as he and James stared at the car.

“If you do that, then I have to give your brother the female-friend talk…”

They looked at each other, and burst out laughing.

“Do get a move on you two, we have a meeting at the club tonight and I don’t like to keep them waiting.” Q grinned.

“You two go on, we’ll walk.” He offered, taking James’ hand, who smiled at the idea in agreement.

“You’re sure?” Mycroft was generally against avoidable exercise.

“Entirely.” James responded, and pulled Q closer with a little tug of the hand.

“Suit yourselves. Get him home before the temperature drops. Good to see you both.” With that Mycroft closed the door again and settled in the car, which started up and roared off with a little flash of lights farewell from Eve.

The pair turned and headed off towards home, Mycroft having driven them back to London. Swinging their hands slightly as they went in childish amusement, and admiring the sights together as if they were anyone else expecting a pup and not two of the most dangerous men in England.

There was an endearment, in that, being two apart from the crowd without the rest of the world knowing.

“I do love you.” Q mentioned, off hand with a smile. James tried and failed to subdue a smirk in growing mischief.

“And after our time together today, I really do find I increasingly love the Queen.”

“Hey!” Q laughed, and pushed James into a fountain. Surprise alone granted Q the lucky shot, and James only really got a foot wet, still he emerged grinning and laughing and splashed Q even whilst the omega turned to escape, stumbling in hilarity.

“James Bond you bastard!”

“Don’t play innocent, you pushed me.” Q gave a swish at James through the water and turned to run, laughing at the play-growl behind him.

They horsed around, generally upsetting or amusing other tourists, until a policeman firmly told them, breathless and grinning with mischief and some strange rush at being caught, to move along and behave respectably.

Q may have slept like an absolute log that night; especially after he and James continued to have way too much fun in the shower, but the evening was a memory he’d treasure for the rest of his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed, and Happy Halloween! (one of my favourite holidays, boo for working!)
> 
> I quite like this chapter, turned out strangely easy to write O.o, but hey, no complaints here! I don't know when the next one will be up, but I've started it, at least :)  
> Oh, there's also a new instalment of my Young Holmes Extras for this fic over on my tumblr: http://shadyquiet.tumblr.com/ go check it out if you fancy, and a big thank you to Moonglaze, my Moony friend, for giving the necessary poke of encouragement x3
> 
> I think that's all! Thank you guys for your comments and kudosing from last week, I frequently beam for no apparent reason during work thinking about all your words, so thank you! have yourselves a stupendous weekend, and may the pumpkins glow bright where you are!


	33. H0: Misconection; H1: Reconnection

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh hey there, am I on schedule or something? O.o Shock horror! xD  
> Sooo much backache this week, I feel like I need a chiropractor!
> 
> Anyway, enough from me, enjoy the chapter!

“Did you know you can give birth in a _bath_?” James spat out his coffee.

Of all the things he had contemplated Q walking in to greet him with in the morning that had not been one.

But unfortunately, over the last few days, his Q had become a monster.

“It really is quite fascinating.” Q mused, heading over to pour himself some cereal. James tried to control his breathing, and prayed this would not be as ‘fascinating’ as Q had found forceps as a birth medium to be… The alpha wasn’t sure he could ever erase that particular image from his mind.

Give Q something important to research, and the tenacious quartermaster really came through. Since meeting the royal midwife and gaining a heap of choices to look into, there had been no stopping the omega.

James just chose to grit and bear it. He knew Q’s interest was mostly intrigue; that hopefully the man wouldn’t suddenly decide home birth was the way to go, or begin booking hydrotherapy pools.

He just wanted Q to have a nice, safe birth, in a comfortable room with good staff, and be absolutely fine…

Because recently, he’d started thinking the horrible, that maybe Q _wouldn’t_ be fine.

Whilst Q had been delving into research, Bond had once again been doing his own. The thing that had cropped up the most was how exhausting labour could be, and therefore, the dangers of exhaustion, dehydration and lack of sleep. Q was an erratic sort of being and James worried that the minute any contractions started he’d be up, too excited to sleep, and that he’d crash during the important part. Or that he’d be unable to eat and drink enough, having trouble with that sometimes anyway, and succumb that way.

It was eating away at the alpha a little bit; the image had burned in his mind of Q lying exhausted and pale in a hospital bed, struggling to breathe and barely focussing, body wracked with pain beyond what it could endure. His mind was plagued with the flashes whenever he tried to sleep. James had come too close to loosing Q too many times now, and since when had everything gone so well for him?

Mostly, James tried to disguise his never ending concern, not wanting to worry Q with it, but eventually the worry drove him to an internal point of distraction. Even touching Q served as a reminder that he was oh so fragile.

He didn’t know what brought it on, but supposed the grim thoughts had been building for a while.

Sat at work on Tuesday, going through some failed mission reports, all he could think about was how Q was now twenty-five weeks pregnant. Close to the third trimester, where he’d be getting uncomfortable. James folded spare paper into aeroplanes and chased circular thoughts about how he could possibly help his Q, who was normally a slender omega, survive when that big. And he loved Q being big and round, he did, but surely that would just be too much weight for him to carry? He’d fall down like a twig, poor thin Q, and James couldn’t honestly know he’d always be there to catch him. What if his mate fell down their three flights of stairs-

“Double oh Seven, everything alright?” James looked up sharply, hand tensing to pull a gun. M was frowning at him from around the door, clearly equally as worried as his agent that he’d managed to sneak up on the man. “My office, Bond.”

With a resigned feeling of looming dread, James stood to follow.

“Sit down.” M offered, seating himself behind the ornate desk and linking his hands together calmly. James imagined a very well thought out and utterly dull lecture about work ethic was coming. He sat, nonetheless. At least it might distract him from all the likely hazards that could befall Q.

“Now, I’m afraid this isn’t really the time or place for this conversation, but I imagined an unannounced house visit would be unappreciated. How’s the pregnancy going?” James startled a bit, subtly, first at the topic and secondly at the thought that M had been thinking of dropping by for a house call.

“Twenty five weeks.” James responded, a bit bemusedly. M nodded.

“And how are you coping? Q seems to be flourishing back in his element, and the branch have never been more efficient.” James contemplated M, silently for a moment.

“You’re a father…” M inclined his head, a little sagely.

“And I was surrounded by others at the time, if there’s any counsel I can provide then I offer it gladly, I understand however if you prefer to seek solace elsewhere. Provided, of course, that you do, if needed. For Q’s sake if not your own sanity. It’s not an easy to shoulder approaching pups and pregnant mates without backup.”

James paused for a moment, thought for a moment. Having it referred to in mission-like terms both lessened the tension and helped him consider.

“Well, it’s a bit worrying at times.” He admitted. M raised an agreeing eyebrow. “…And then there’s the fact that it wont just be me and him.”

“True, everything changes.” Mallory agreed calmly. James found his fingers tapping on the arm of the chair momentarily.

“He either doesn’t seem concerned, or he panics. I’m the one that suggested the whole thing, Q would have probably been happy without and, to be honest quite a lot of the time its been terrible…” What caused it, James didn’t know, but suddenly he was off.

“He’s been so sick for most of the time and I keep worrying that it will only get worse for him-“

“He’s not been angry with me or too emotional but he’s just been so _tired_ -“

“I’m not sure I thought about how much work a pup would be at the time, and now we’ve painted a house and we’ve got to raise it and Q hates not working and how am I meant to be a decent father? We don’t exactly have normal careers-“

“What if it hates us?-“

“What if Q can’t make it through pregnancy? He’s only small and already he’s bloody huge-“

“I want a pup but what if he’s not really ready?-“

“I keep thinking something will go wrong, that something awful will happen to Q-“

“I don’t think I can stand seeing him in any more pain.”

There was silence for a moment, James felt oddly flat after letting all the thoughts he hadn’t been thinking about out… It wasn’t exactly something he was used to doing.

“Sounds to me that, aside from the obvious, you two are the lucky ones.” M replied candidly, and James looked up sharply.

“What?” He was prepared to re-iterate the terrible things Q had gone through, the month-long recovery, the fact that this was probably a year of torment on his mate that James was solely responsible for because unlike most mates, he, not the omega, had been the one to really want children.

“There were times when Daniel wouldn’t even talk to me… I seem to remember plates being thrown, on one occasion, because I hadn’t gotten the temperature of the fish fingers quite right.” It would have been funny, if it evidently weren’t so painfully true. And James supposed that yes; in those terms they had been lucky. Q was hormonal, yes, but he had turned into a bit of a sap, not a wailing banshee.

“Then there was the time with the antenatal classes too…” M _cringed_ in memory.

“What happened?” James asked, curiosity warring with wariness and amusement. M grimaced.

“I was late for one. It led to the events of what we now refer to as ‘The Black Weekend’… I’m not sure we’ve entirely forgiven each other yet either. I made a point not to miss another one though.

“That was really what it was like for you?” James queried, half smirking in disbelief. M nodded grimly.

“Twice, the last wasn’t so bad emotionally, we knew how to handle it, but it wasn’t fun. I’d say you’ve been rather lucky.” M reiterated with a raised brow and stood to get two glasses of whiskey at even the memory of the pregnancies.

“Go home and give him a hug.” M suggested with a hint of sour respect for his quartermaster. James accepted the glass and swirled it thoughtfully.

“Why go through with three if it was that bad?” M sat down with a wry smile and a strange light in his eyes.

“You can’t possibly understand that yet.” James let the man have his secrets; he understood enough what the man was trying to say.

“To be honest, that’s what I thought about the whole thing… but now I’m not so sure, or I’m worried about what will come next.” M took a drink and swallowed before gesturing with the glass at his agent.

“Cold feet are perfectly normal, Q must be feeling the same, don’t forget that. The important thing to remember is that _everyone_ gets cold feet, and the vast majority of people are completely unable to articulate a word for how much they unconditionally love their children. And that’s the bit you need to remember on the bad days.” James raised a brow with a smile.

“Is that what you did?” M’s expression went a little grim again.

“Actually, I was against having a third child. Our first was a joy after the fact, our second seemed a good idea at the time, and then likewise, but the pregnancy was so awful that I wasn’t convinced we could survive a third.” James frowned.

“Then why go through with it?”

“Daniel wanted another pup, I think he can’t resist watching them grow, having another thing to love… and we do love them. We waited a longer time before having a third, but when he wanted one, I said that even though pregnancy emotions weren’t something he could help, that I couldn’t take another nine months being constantly told I was the man who had ruined his life, only to have the entire thing pushed away and ignored when it was done. We talked about it, most of the time Daniel is an astoundingly steady person, and I hadn’t realised how badly it had affected me… Neither had he, apparently. He listened when I told him I couldn’t go through it again, said we wouldn’t have one for the moment then, that he really did want another pup, but he’d think about whether he could handle anything differently, or we could come up with a plan, and that we wouldn’t go through with it if he wasn’t convinced it could be different. Luckily enough, it was.”

James digested the story for a moment. He now knew more about this M first-hand than he ever did his own one… Maybe it was because he wasn’t solely a field agent anymore; maybe he was even more trusted. Maybe Mallory was a sentimental bastard at heart, it sounded like he was, from his story. James even felt a rush of sympathy for the man; he couldn’t imagine how unbearable he would find it to suddenly be the object of Q’s hatred, to never be able to do anything right by him… and weren’t pregnancies typical for that? How had he managed to get the one omega in the world that wasn’t aggressively hormonal in the slightest?

“Cheers.” James said, clinking glasses by way of silent gratitude to his boss. They’d managed to spend a good of hour delving into strife and ranting, and in another hour’s time he was due to go home with Q, who was on the afternoon-evening shift again.

After finishing their drinks James left, thoughts of an entirely different nature weighing on his mind, and a plan forming in his head. It was time for more research.

James followed his nose and eventually subtly cornered his first prey: a man from financing. He was followed by two from medical (who looked alarmed at his presence), three from HR, another two from catering and even a group of the janitors he found lurking in their break room (who didn’t give a damn who he was).

The results, James found, were identical. He needed to have a talk with his mate.

 

-00Q00-

 

Q had been having a good half-day in branch. Not tired, only mildly ravenous, no one got injured and he’d managed to finish some truly spectacular coding.

“Ready to go?” James appeared in the doorway, waiting quietly, he seemed a bit preoccupied since the weekend. Q often found the best policy was to wait until either he couldn’t stand the tension or until James decided to tell him what was on his mind.

“Give me a minute, I’ll just close down.” Q responded, smiling in what he hoped was a peaceful manner and turning back to finish closing the programs down and packing his bag. James was waiting a little too patiently. Could something have come up with one of his agents? No, Q would have heard, now they were double ohs. He was due to be meeting them next week for advanced weapons training as it was.

Well, James would be doing the training, maybe with one of the other double ohs, Q was simply supplying the weapons and overseeing their correct use. They were going out to the field-testing base and everything.

The omega smiled as he pictured what a younger James and Alec must have been like back when Boothroyd took them through their own training with the then senior agents.

Still smiling at the thought, he turned to head out with James, who was a little quiet still, but otherwise seemed normal, unharmed at least. It was impossible to tell anything else with a man so well trained as his alpha.

Whatever it was, James would tell him when he was ready. It could well be just general pregnancy worry after all.

 

-00Q00-

 

James waited until they were back at home and inside before he turned to Q, the question burning inside him.

“Why aren’t you angry?” Q looked over, surprised and maybe a bit startled from depositing his bag on the table.

“I’m sorry, angry at what?” James failed to restrain the growl.

“At _me_.” Q looked utterly bewildered, which only served to increase his own confusion and annoyance over the whole charade the omega must be putting on.

“Should I be?” Q baffled, frowning in confusion. “James, has something happened?” He growled and slammed a fist down onto the table, hating the way Q flinched at the noise and getting more frustrated because of it.

“Dammit Q, I’ve asked everybody at Six with a pregnant or recently pregnant mate, and they _all_ say that their mates tore a verbal strip from them during their pregnancies. So why the hell are you pretending to be so damn calm?” The look of disbelief did nothing to help. “Don’t look like that. Are you bottling it up? I know what you’re like-“

“What I’m _like_?” Q frowned back, a bit of edge gracing his tone, finally. It almost felt like relief.

“Your dissociation, are you… dissociating your anger from me? I’d rather you told me, I don’t want you keeping it to yourself if it’s making you ill-“

“What do you mean making me ill?” Q asked, seemingly desperate to steer the conversation back onto normal ground.

“Your health during the first few months, you were so sick all the time and repressed anger can’t be good for your condition, stress can hurt the pup too and-“

“James what are you talking about? What’s going on?”

“I want to know why the hell you’re being so, so damn perfect in comparison when you probably just want to kill me for putting your body through all this mess, and all the tiredness, the fatigue, the sickness and pain and then the torture-“

“James stop!” Q commanded in his quartermaster voice, looking sharp and concerned and determined. “That is enough-“

“No, _this_ is enough!” James insisted. “Why wont you just bloody tell me how you feel! You think I want you repressing how much you hate me for getting you pregnant?! You think I’m okay with you just leaving me out of the blue because you never bothered to talk about it? If you really didn’t want a pup you should have just said and stopped me being a selfish bastard-“

“JAMES!” Q shouted over his bellowing, taking a step back and shaking his head in disbelief and an awful sort of frightened horror. “Jesus Christ what on earth have you been thinking about? Of course I’m not leaving you, what the hell made you think that?” James breathed through clenched teeth, he just couldn’t see how Q could not be angry with him, and how the man could not tell him. Keeping something like this to himself, bottling it all up in secrets and lies… it was just like Vesper. He’d thought she was happy and in love with him, until the end. Until it was far, far too late.

“You never wanted this baby.” He put out, grittily, watching for who knew what, the lurking admission of guilt? The knowledge that Q had resented him all this time. The omega just gaped, looking a little hurt.

“Just, what? James, you… maybe at first I was worried, but that was because I thought I couldn’t cope, not because I didn’t want this, I would have told you-“

“ _Then why won’t you tell me now_? Why wont you just let it out, scream, throw a fucking plate at my face! Just do something! You can’t be this fine when you’re meant to be so hormonal!” James thundered, almost desperately, and Q backed up another step with a hand raised, looking wary and painfully confused.

“Let me get this straight,” He breathed, voice low and shaking with shock, “you’re angry with me…because I’m not angry…”

“Yes!” As he said it, the whole situation seemed to become ridiculously transparent, and he stood there breathing hard in his fury, unwilling to let it go entirely yet even as tendrils of ‘oh fuck’ begun running down the back of his mind.

“…Right.” Q murmured, hand still raised. After a moment the omega shifted tentatively into movement, keeping his hands in sight and his wary eyes on James as he edged around the counter and out of the confinement of the kitchen, backing away a bit. James panicked, he’d screwed up, oh god how he had, Q was shaking, afraid, he was going to leave.

“Where are you going?” It came out as an accusation, a bark, and Q’s spine stiffened. His eyes glistened though they didn’t blink.

“To our bedroom.” Q managed, voice tight and frayed sounding, hurt, tearful. James made a move forwards as his anger diminished and his terror at Q leaving begun to shatter. His mate held up hands further and shifted back, tears beginning to trip from his eyes as James watched, his own widening in numb horror. “Please, don’t come up for a few minutes.” With that, and a barely disguised rush for the stairs, Q left.

The alpha turned for the stairs after him, desperate in his worry.

“Q!” He called, voice agonised now, as the bedroom door slammed shut. Just, he could make out the sound of Q retching in the bathroom.

“Fuck. _Fuck_!” James turned and punched the wall, cursing again and clenching his fist at the pain, it served to help him calm down, somewhat. But the smearing of blood and shallow dent in the plaster looked ugly in their previously happy and un-christened by violence home.

Evidently he was the one being subjected to the mood swings.

He also had no idea what to do.

The man he was of a few years ago would have left, driven halfway across town and staggered back drunk, or into someone else’s bed, or onto Alec’s sofa. But the man he was now…

 

-00Q00-

 

Q didn’t know what the fuck had happened to James, except it was obvious, really. The man had been taking the stress of everything awfully well up until now. It was only expected he explode sooner or later… Q hadn’t expected it to be over something so bloody pointless though!

Half of him had wanted to run out of the house, and the other half wanted to drop onto his back in that learned habit to roll over and stop the possibility of hurt.

But he knew he was in no fit state to go anywhere; pregnant he couldn’t wander the streets, and going to somebody’s house, anyone’s house, would likely result in someone attempting to kill his James. Who was having a moment of idiocy that shook Q to hell and back, but couldn’t really be blamed for it.

And if he had rolled over, than Q knew there was no way in hell James would have forgiven himself, or stayed, for that matter. Q was desperately hoping the man would stay… if he left, Q knew he would struggle to forgive him. They were better than that now, surely? He couldn’t bring himself to go downstairs and be the olive branch though, not until he knew James had calmed down.

Regardless of sensibilities, he had spent a minute retching, and was entirely unable to stop crying, and didn’t really want to go to bed. Instead he pulled out the bedding he kept in a wardrobe and nested himself tearfully into a corner, trying to hold in the sounds of his sobs and hoping he wasn’t about to hear the Aston driving away.

He was upset, shocked, a bit miffed and still hungry. Altogether, there was an entirely miserable quartermaster cocooned in a tight pile of blankets in the corner.

 

-00Q00-

 

Going into his own bedroom felt like entering the proverbial lion’s den. It smelt of upset Q. Cringing at the mess this evening had become, James took a breath and went in, closing the door behind him.

He’d waited twenty minutes to calm down, to pause and think and get his head together. He didn’t know whether his rant about Q’s lack of anger might just have triggered some. Even if not, he’d definitely upset his mate.

Q had managed to ensconce himself into a tiny huddle of blankets in the corner. Guilt flared again. James couldn’t help the frantic emotions that got the better of him. There was a part of him that would always fear Q leaving. He didn’t really believe the omega would, but the worry was enough. Everyone had at least one fear intrinsic that they couldn’t shake, and most had more than one. When it came to Q, it had always and would always be that he would loose him. The manner varied with his worries from abduction to upset.

He couldn’t help it; he was human and a slave to the subconscious whenever it controlled him. But he was damned if he didn’t feel wracked with guilt and concern for it none the less.

Sighing, James went over to sit and slump against the wall half a meter from Q.

“I’m sorry.” There was a breath that almost sounded relieved, of course, Q had probably been worried that James would have run off. Thank god he hadn’t.

“You had your reasons… Don’t shout at me again.” Came the muffled voice.

“I’m sorry anyway… I scared you.” James reminded, firm and bitter at himself.

“I’m easy to scare these days.”

“I should never have, fuck, I don’t know what to say Q. I’m sorry.” The silence stretched on, calmed, after what seemed like hours Q made a shuffle that landed some of the blanket onto James’ foot.

Gradually, glacially, the nest that was Q moved; expanded over the centimetres to fit James in as well, cover him, the growing to enclose the pair of them. As soon as he was sure of Q’s advances becoming more comfortable, and the omega being next to him within arms reach, James pulled the younger man to him with an urgency born of desperation.

To have Q leave would be agonising. To have Q leave because of something James himself had done would be unbearable.

In order to stave off his own still half-panic, and Q’s hurt, James shifted and coaxed the lightly grumbling omega onto his lap and buried his face in the man’s out of control hair, breathing deeply to calm himself. After long minutes, Q spoke again.

“Reckon we’ll tell the kids about this one day?” Q mused, sounding better, sounding calm and relaxed and normal. And damn it if James wasn’t lucky after all. Luckiest damn man alive, for having this, this man in his arms. He could only hope, pray, that Q felt the same.

Given the plural in Q’s words that clenched his heart in emotion, maybe, just maybe, the omega did.

If he thought about it, James knew Q did adore James beyond all sane reason, and sometimes even insane reason given their respective selves. Even after all this time, he found the love hard to understand, or maybe believe he deserved. But then there Q would go, reminding him, showing him, and he’d be blown away all over again.

Maybe it was Q who was James’ knight in shining armour, rather than the other way round.

Holding Q tighter, and pressing another kiss deep into dark whorls of hair, James found his words again.

“No, some things, they’re just for us.”

Q breathed out, calming and calmingly, and shifted a bit in James’ arms, reaching up with one hand to hold the alpha’s arm. Just hold it, thumb tracing back and forth in a gentle soothe. Sighing himself, relaxing into Q’s support, the alpha rested his head on Q’s shoulder and let himself be gradually wicked of tension and led into sleep, safe within his mate’s arms and affections, loved into protection and leaning with heavy bonelessness onto the lighter frame when he slept dreamlessly.

 

-00Q00-

 

Going back to work had been brilliant mentally, but by the weekend Q was not feeling quite so chipper. In fact everything seemed to start hurting all at once.

James’ stress attack on Wednesday hadn’t necessarily helped, given that of course Q had started trying to be sure his alpha knew how he was feeling, and the man himself had been driven back into guilty constant protection.

Between the two of them, it was actually a miracle that anyone got any work done.

Selfishly, of course, Q had quite enjoyed James utterly doting on him, even if the man got underfoot sometimes. He was also consciously aware that he had needed it, and only hoped that James was feeling better himself. At the moment, he was just overly attentive, Q wanted to be sure James felt as secure as he did.

Q thought he did, but didn’t want to assume too quickly.

The ensuing stress of the whole thing for both of them, combined with work, made Q one very exhausted omega. To add on to the stress, he hadn’t been sleeping very well. Aches and pains flared up at annoying interludes during the night. Not bad enough to warrant dealing with or waking James, just enough to make him annoyed and uncomfortable.

He went to bed fine on Friday night, but come early Saturday morning all Q could do was role over with a wincing gasp and flop to groan into the pillow.

“Q? Alright love?” James’ rousing voice beside him was still gruff with sleep as he reached out to stroke Q’s neck.

God even _that_ hurt! Q shifted away a bit with a muffled moan and held up a hand to halt James’ ministrations.

“Aching, aching.” He mumbled. James withdrew soundlessly, and instead rested his hand gently between Q’s shoulder blades, a patch of heat… the omega hadn’t realised he even felt cold. Shivering he drew into a closer ball, tucking his head down and attempting to hide his frown of discomfort.

He was cold, aching and uncomfortable. Blasty rumbled away and that just made him feel unreasonably nauseous. With a frustrated groan Q rolled over and gingerly clambered out of bed, catching himself on the wall when he staggered.

James was next to him in an instant.

“Easy, love, what’s wrong?” All Q’s limbs were starting to shake in fatigue, and he didn’t really feel that bad, but for some reason he felt the urge to cry. He was cold, aching and felt sweaty from the night, all he wanted was to wash.

“I just want a bath.” Q blurted, voice coming out in abysmally teary hitches.

“Alright.” There were no pacifiers or questions, just simple acceptance of something his mate needed. Q burst out crying. James looked frantically alarmed. “Is that not-“

“How are you so wo-wo-wonderful?” Q wailed out. It was hideously embarrassing, but the surge of emotion was not his own, the quartermaster refused to believe this was his doing. It was the hormones causing the smothering wave of almost agonising love for James, who still looked afraid that Q was possessed. The omega simply clung onto his mate’s arms and cried.

“…I’m sure there’s a reason…” James suggested, evidently at a loss, just holding Q’s arms back as the younger man desperately tried to pull himself together.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I can’t control it,” Q sobbed out, squeezing his eyes shut and feeling hot tears splash out. “I’m aching and I never seem to stop cry-y-ing.” James huffed out a gentle breath above his bent form.

“Come on love, bath, right?” James chided gently, quiet with amusement and acceptance. Q just nodded, keeping his traitorous mouth shut and desperately wishing for a moment that this wasn’t his life right now. This was pathetic, atrocious, and humiliating, and came from nowhere.

James led him to their large bathroom and perched him on the generously sized tub, it was only when Q looked up that he realised it was dark outside.

“What, what time is it?” He asked, pausing to sniff and wipe his face after calming down somewhat.

“Not quite yesterday, not quite tomorrow.” Q looked up at James, a little aghast.

“It’s not morning?”

“It’s fine.” James assured with a shrug. The vague shadows under the man’s eyes gave him away, and Q looked around for a clock. “Really, Q. I’ve got up earlier for much less enjoyable reasons.” Q sighed out and hung his head.

“Sorry. I had no idea.” Wiping at his face again Q looked up to meet James’ watchful eyes. “We can do this later, tomorrow, whenever, lets just go back to bed.” James frowned.

“I thought you were aching?”

“Well, yes, but if its oh-God-oh-clock in the morning-“ James cut him off by leaning down with a kiss.

“I’d rather be here, with you, having baths at three, than sleeping soundly knowing you needed something. I couldn’t sleep knowing you needed something, anyway.”

“If you’re sure-“

“I am.” Q just nodded at James’ words, and let the man carry on with the bath filling. He did still ache, and it felt worse around his hips. Q hoped they weren’t loosening already to help bear the weight of their baby, usually that only started during the third trimester.

Worrying was exhausting, and when James’ hand came to cup his neck and stroke gently, Q felt his eyes drooping.

“Ready?” Q mumbled his affirmative and stood, undressing slowly with weak feeling fingers. The alpha waited until his mate was finished before insisting on helping him into the bath.

Q sunk into the warm water and let out a sigh of bliss, turning into a moan when James joined him moments later. The agent slipped in behind Q and pulled the slighter figure into resting on back his chest.

The complexly set mood lighting dimmed and took on a warming candlelight glow around the inset wall shelf beside the bath. With only the gently lapping sound of water, and their breathing, Q started to feel the aches releasing him. James’ hands came to massaging slowly at knotted shoulders.

“We should book you a massage.” James murmured, kissing along one shoulder slowly after his hand. “Not that I can stand the thought of someone else touching you like this.” To emphasise his meaning the large hands slid round until they were cradling Q’s swollen belly, easing it up a bit and supporting the weight somewhat. The sight of James’ hands against the large and growing bump was not something Q thought he would get used to, but it was wonderful in too many ways to name.

“God you’re gorgeous like this.” James turned his head within the crook of his mate’s neck to kiss the skin. “Our pup isn’t too heavy for you, right?”

“Not yet, at any rate.”

“Good. I don’t like my Q uncomfortable.” The omega chuckled softly as another kiss was pressed under his ear, but found himself growing too relaxed to properly speak.

“Here, lean forward, I’m going to give you a massage.” With a groan of happiness Q complied, James gave unbelievable massages.

“I’m going to have so much making up to do after all this.” He commented contemplatively, head resting on his knees as James’ hands begun pressing and kneading up and down either side of his spine and shoulders.

“You’re carrying our pup, that’s more than enough. And you’re going to be feeding them too.” Q hummed vaguely, coming apart as James managed to find some sort of immensely relaxing smelling soap to lather onto him.

“S’much as I can.”

“That’s good enough for me.” James’ hands paused momentarily, and a kiss was pressed to his neck. “You’re giving me more than I ever imagined.”

“…Same,” Q added, softly, voice gentle in the quiet. He turned to meet his mate’s eyes, lips meeting in a brief, calm kiss before turning around and running his hands down his mate’s legs. “If you’re doing my back, I’m at least doing your feet.”

“But I was going to do your feet.” James mock-pouted with an amused tone.

“Please do, and then I’ll do your back, too.”

“I bet you fall asleep before I do.” Q could only hum at that.

It proved to be completely true; Q collapsing boneless onto the bed and being covered up long before he had even gotten down James’ neckline. The alpha’s continued rubbing movements carried on relaxing him long after the quartermaster had fallen asleep.

 

-00Q00-

 

James had his answer by the three on Saturday morning; that Q simply suffered from his own branch of hormonal distress. In fact, given everything he knew of Q’s past and hatred for conflict, it made perfect sense that the omega simply seemed to refuse to become irrationally aggressive and angry with him.

Q could be miffed, unimpressed and yes, annoyed and angry at times, but never without reason.

If Q wanted, needed, was predisposed or whatever, to spend his pregnancy being nesty, clingy, tearful and comfort seeking, then James would look after him and gladly. In fact, also giving Q’s childhood, maybe he was still catching up for lost time. Still absorbing all the affection he needed and had been deprived of.

Really, the alpha wasn’t about to complain now that he’d worked that one out. James was lucky indeed, and the best part was that the alpha must have been doing alright, really, because Q thought he was lucky too.

So maybe, the whole thing would work out.

And that made him feel pretty damn invincible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of H/C this chapter, ish? I'm hoping it went down okay, I'm all worried people will struggle to connect with Bond's outburst, but here's as it goes in my mind: he's been through a lot in life as we know, you can't always predict when your brain's gonna come and say BOO! behind you, and also pregnancy can be a stressful situation...especially for these two, what with the hospital stays and everything...  
> Anyway, fretting aside, I hope the pair of them came across okay, and their 'spat?' is in the interest of, as one lovely commenter said many moons ago 'couples do fight, that's just what happens'. And I figured, yeah, they do! And James has been a stoic badass for a while...breakdown time! *cackles*
> 
> Also more big softie M for the M lovers out there! There will be more of him and!Daniel in some chapters time...
> 
> Not just for making it through this long ramble, but also THANK YOU for all the lovely comments this week! I've been thoroughly whacked with work and it was a joy to read them all as pick-me-ups! This chapter is so fast thanks to you guys! Love to you all and your beautiful/crazy pets! :D
> 
> Pst: at 25 weeks now, we should technically only have 15 chapters left, making a whopping 47 altogether... but pfft, as if I can restrain myself! Still, completion is almost/kind of/a little bit in sight!...that faint _faint_ green line on the horizon...  
>  Must stop typing now!


	34. H0: Three makes a crowd; H1: The more the merrier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry this is late guys, it was just one of those weeks where a lot goes down and there was barely any time to write!  
> Any way, please enjoy despite lateness :)

The field-testing grounds for MI6 were located out in the countryside, and had taken a fair drive to get over there. The station was constantly manned of course and in contact with the main branch. It was a feral type who worked here.

James found them quite charming, Q knew. Personally, he seemed to be looked on as someone would observe a particularly feisty kitten; respectably dangerous, but overall more adorable than awe-inspiring.

True they all knew of his work, it was after all his team that designed the weapons they were testing, but that didn’t mean they didn’t look at him with omega-tinted glasses.

Still, it was good enough to at least be liked, and it wasn’t as if Q was here for himself.

This was about agents 0010 and 0011. The newly crowned double ohs.

James and Q had diverted upon arrival, the alpha to corral and inform his agents of their training for the day, the omega to set up the area and retreat quickly to grab a laptop. Might as well get some valuable data from the event.

 

-00Q00-

 

Bailey Campbell and Daisy Trotter were lounging in the break room, drinking the provided coffee with openly unimpressed faces. James smirked to himself before walking in.

“Morning.”

“Aye.” Greeted Campbell with a nod, ginger hair out of control and prevalent on his hard-wired frame, not bulky looking but corded with muscle.

“Morning.” Added Trotter, unfortunate name for the pretty woman, carefully bobbed ice-blonde hair, also of slender built, but curved alluringly.

Both alphas, both new double ohs, both loyal to a fault to Queen and Country.

“Welcome to the crunch.” Bond announced with a smirk, and gestured them out of the waiting area.

“Are we really just gonnae blow stuff up today man?”

“There’s a fair bit of that.” James allowed, noting the glee in the Scotsman’s eyes.

“But there’s the clever little things too right?” 0011 queried, leaning forwards and hand clasped behind her back, the very picture of unthreatening.

Of all the agent’s Bond had trained, Trotter had been the one with the natural flair for the subtleties of playing a part. Given the way it often didn’t match her eyes, James knew she felt little emotion at most times. Her psych files were already suggestive of sociopath, but she’d been grown in an army family, been a soldier from the earliest age possible, and was already deft with death as a result. She was, however, acutely boring with procedure and knew the rules of MI6 better than the rest of the double ohs put together. Tanner loved her for having the only positive attitude towards paperwork of all things.

Campbell on the other hand was more like Bond when he was younger, though with a more openly feisty demeanour and practically spitting tongue that reminded him of Alec. He at least had a healthy enjoyment for havoc, and gritty work with dodgy equipment. He seemed like some wild ancient Scott from the highlands, and acted like it too. James rather suspected that the hyperactive run could be prone to a horrific crash before restarting the cycle, but up until that point he’d be a spitfire. Of course, he’d need to learn some coping strategies rather than just running on untamed energy until the tank was empty.

But every agent had faults. 001 was another who actually did the paperwork and rarely cracked a smile at jokes. 002 was utterly dedicated to flirtation and leaving nothing of herself behind –James didn’t even see hairs left in rooms she’d been in. 005 hadn’t been quite as reckless when time called for it. The less said about Alec and James’ own faults the better. 008, of course, was just generally a tosser.

Overall, James was pleased with them, and they would adapt and grow and retreat and twist as the situation required or befell. Time would only tell how these two would turn out. Bond could only train them best he could and send them out there, trusting them to use their wits…

Not dissimilar to parenting, he supposed, keeping the amused smirk to himself as he led them down to the weapons vault.

 

-00Q00-

 

“Apparently the Quartermaster’s the youngest ever eh?”

“Been tortured once too, he was away for some weeks.”

“And an omega too, can ye believe it!”

“I want to see his code, rumour has it its unbreakable.”

“Ay, but I’m more interested in the restricted weapons though.”

It was strange and amusing watching the two agents discussing his mate the same way he and Alec might have sized up a new superior officer.

“And if you focus, you might actually learn how to use some of them.” James turned with a smirk to see Q move in to lean against the way, an oh-so disguised smile of amusement in the corner of his lips. The two new recruits had tensed upon his arrival, both swinging with the omega’s own weapons in their hands, scanning his appearance and pregnant belly with guarded shock. Q raised an imperious eyebrow, face becoming the controlled mask of MI6’s quartermaster.

“Those do tend to work better when loaded, agents. Do try to remember to check that next time.” Q chastised mildly, moving to set down the laptop and unlock the case he’d brought with him from London. “Even the simplest of weapons you can actually use will work better than all the fancy gadgetry that you cannot get to function.”

“Yeah? So why d’we need it then?” Tested Campbell with a challenging grin. Q drew out two black cases, one marked with a small number 10 and the other 11 etched on the top, and handed them over.

“Because they cater to the specifics, Double oh Ten. And generally improve even the brashest of performances.”

He handed the cases over and nodded for them to try it out. With a brief glance at each other, the new agents focused on unwrapping the boxes, revealing their individual palm-coded Walthers. Of course without knowing what it was they were looking at, the two double ohs simply treated the weapons as you would any new gun; checking the clip, balance… It was only then that James noticed Q had handed them the boxes the wrong way round, and that the agents hadn’t noticed the tiny etches of their numbers on the boxes.

Both agents turned to separate firing lanes and adopted stances, only to find red lights and nothing happening. Confused, they inspected the guns, ran through the procedures, tried again.

“Palm coded guns, programmed to work only at your touch.” Q waited for them to finish frowning, look at the boxes, the lids, realise what they had missed and swap the weapons over, a little astounded that they had been duped. Now when both held and raised the weapons they met familiar green and loud cracks of gunshots. James knew what they were experiencing as well as the agents. Q improved the Walthers all the time, they were now so exceptionally intelligent that they recognised their owner’s shooting style and minutely adjusted for a cleaner shot. Q had tried to explain it to him once, but James hadn’t been able to understand just on earth how Q had designed and created the faultlessly swift relay system.

Even without the spot on shots through the heart of their paper targets, there just was something about a gun that would respond only to you that was deliciously pleasing.

“Offers you an upper hand, agents, but only if you’re sufficient enough to warrant it.” Q intoned, voice full of promise and also pointed warning. The agents turned to the pair of them, standing side by side.

“Double oh Ten, Eleven, meet Q, MI6’s quartermaster. And my mate.”

Both agents’ reflected impressed expressions.

“No way, ye mated t’him!” Campbell exclaimed at Q, never one for needless subtlety. The omega just offered a cocky half smile; James’s smirk nearly mirroring it as Trotter let out another impressed breath under her breath.

Together, the mated pair struck quite an impression.

“Shall we, agents?” Q addressed, indicating the remaining multitude of weapons to introduce the newly certified to. Bond didn’t miss the reverence with which they both boxed up their coded guns.

 

-00Q00-

 

“Have you considered the genetics?”

“They don’t mean literally.”

“Actually Q probably does.”

“Well, its just, its easy isn’t it.”

“I suppose you might as well plan for one thing.” James ignored Mycroft’s disparaging comment and turned to Q, a curious expression on his face.

“You know what Rumbles will look like?” Q swallowed and held up his hands.

“Only the most likely probabilities, hair colour, eyes, that sort of thing. And of course genetics is partly random and down to chance, but, given our looks, yes. At least, the most likely outcome.”

The five of them were having a strange lunch out at a moderately pricey restaurant. Mycroft had insisted on dragging them out for some sort of shopping trip. Sherlock and John had mysteriously found out and turned up in their usual haphazard fashion. Eve was restricted to assisting Mallory for a long weekend, not that that had ceased Sherlock’s ribbing to find out more about the female alpha he knew his elder brother was seeing.

In between exchanged barbs and taunts, it was hilarious to see the brothers occasional battles over doting on Q. Mycroft had offered Q the best seat, a booth seat along the back wall, and then gestured John to sit next to the omega in some sort of generosity. Sherlock, sitting before the window, kept plying Q with drinks whilst Mycroft pushed food towards him, and both generally took turns defending their youngest brother from passing comments.

The whole affair was subtle enough that everything but the childishness went over Q and John’s heads. James just found it far too entertaining.

“Tell me,” He smiled, turning to Q with a smile, trying to guess what his mate would say. The omega smiled in that hiddenly shy way, and looked mostly at the quiche he was cutting up.

“My hair, your eyes.” He offered softly. James tried to picture it; with all the faces he had seen in life it was still impossible, but hardly unpleasant. James did love Q’s eyes though.

“Hmm, brown hair is a more dominant trait than blonde, and blue beats green.” John considered, nodding, and then grinned at Q. “Wait and see it come out gold and green just to surprise you.”

“Or something else entirely. There’s some auburn in out family.” Sherlock pointed out, looking at Mycroft, who considered it.

“True, and it does tend to come up generations down the line-“

“That’s rumour and folklore. It’s all quite sensible if you listen to genetics. A recessive gene just gets carried along.” Q shot down with blunt scientific assurance. The rest of the table either smiled or shook their heads and Q flustered.

“What! It’s fact, don’t act like you all believe wives tales over-“

“Uhhhhg can we not talk about children for one moment!” Sherlock groaned dramatically, clearly tiring of the conversation.

“That is precisely why I suggested you stay at home.” Sherlock’s sharp gaze fell to Mycroft from where the beta had dropped his head over the back of his chair. “Why do you think we’re here?” John coughed tellingly; clearly he had worked out why they were here, Q looked around as if to locate some suspicious sign. James raised an eyebrow at Mycroft’s rolling eyes.

“Honestly, right around this corner are the most fashionable and high quality maternity and infancy boutiques in London.” Q looked a little panicked and lunged forwards to hiss.

“No Mycroft! They won’t let me through the door of those places.”

“Nonsense.” James interrupted before Mycroft could, and scooped Q close. “Be grateful to your brother for organising this.” Q looked at him aghast, but only put up a weak struggle to get out of his alpha’s arms.

“You traitor, any chance to see me in silk-“

“Guilty as charged.”

“Oh god.” Q groaned, but gave up the fight. “Alright, but choose something you like that is both respectable and functional. I’m not buying anything ridiculous that I can only wear once.”

“You and your bloody utilitarian wardrobe.”

“You and your extravagant tastes-“

“Oh no.” Sherlock butted in abruptly, pointing an accusing finger at Mycroft. “You’re not buying your way into favouritism just by dressing Aster up nice. John and I can be just as generous. John, give me your wallet.”

“What? Why does it have to be _my_ wallet?!”

“You think I can afford fancy baby clothes with mine alone? Give it over, we’ll combine forces-“

“Will you two stop looking so impoverished, you’re causing a scene.” Mycroft complained disdainfully as Sherlock and John begun counting the notes in their pockets.

“There really isn’t any…” Q’s protest trailed off weakly from dissuading his brothers and shot James a hopeless glance.

James didn’t feel annoyed in the slightest, quite the contrary; any excuse to see his Q dressed in some exquisitely textured finery.

 

-00Q00-

 

The shops were pretty much as daunting as imagined, but at least he was let in the door. After that, it was complete anarchy. Q wanted to go with Sherlock and John to look at the myriad of endearingly soft looking newborn and infant clothes, but he was dragged away by oldest brother and mate towards the upstairs floor.

There was even an attendant just for their personal use as the two alphas gained far too much enjoyment parading Q around in different styles and clothes shamelessly.

It wasn’t as if the clothes were unpleasant, not at all, but it was the faff of the thing. But, Q had to admit, he could use some more options for his increased size, and these ones looked like they’d happily last him till the end with their cunning cuts and ties, buttons and stretches.

He also rather liked the look in his James’ eyes when they watched him wearing the silken materials. Well, his mate was the one that would have to look at him the most after all.

Q spent far too much, as did James and Mycroft without a lick of complaint. In fact the alphas looked entirely too pleased with themselves.

The two betas reappeared with a single bag that they refused to let Q peek into despite all attempts at sneaking… not that he was up to much sneaking with his increased size.

“We should see another film.” Sherlock decided, and John nodded, looking at his phone for some options. Mycroft however, shook his head.

“Later, we have another appointment first.”

“Another?” Q felt weak at the thought. Mycroft simply smiled and hailed his trailing tinted-windowed car that they’d been using for the day.

“Oh what next.” Q mumbled with a numb sort of dread, hoping that his energy would keep up.

He hadn’t been sleeping well still, simple discomfort keeping him awake. James peered over the film titles with John in the car. Q could see him texting Alec as well, offering the man to join them for one later.

“We should be finished by six.”

“Mm late one then.” John decided, nodding and looking through the options. Sherlock was squinting at Mycroft suspiciously, and a little delighted at the challenge of the day.

“What are you planning Mycroft?” The alpha did not answer, but did look rather satisfied with himself.

Q sat by his brothers and simply allowed it to happen.

 

-00Q00-

 

As it turned out, pregnancy yoga was hard work. Hard, brutal, hard hard work. Q felt like a dying fish flopping about after their last stretches, utterly spent. Good but spent.

“Great work everyone, you’ll be feeling the benefits a few weeks down the line don’t you worry!” Called the perky monster of an instructor. There were omegas and beta women around him either much further or less far along than him, and at least some of them were also looking done in from the basics class, which was something of a comfort. On the other hand there were a few despicable individuals who seemed to be positively _glowing_.

Q had to remind himself belatedly why he had agreed to the experience; on the condition that Alec and James took Mycroft to the gym whilst they worked out during Q’s session. Alec had appeared at their destination looking jaunty and far too entertained with the collection of people. He and John had hit it off, which seemed to both please and irk Sherlock. Sherlock had insisted on joining in the pregnancy yoga class, with John. The instructor had had no chance to dissuade them, and Q was mildly cheered by hearing John’s curses in the background. Sherlock managed with ease, annoyingly, though he managed not to look too smug when coming to collect Q from the mat.

“Alright brother dear?”

“Try doing it with a baby attached you bastard, then mock me.” Q bit back, catching his breath. John huffed and puffed up to them, sitting down to help Q sit up. The omega just wanted James to be the one behind him, who knew the perfect ways to make it look like Q was sitting of his own volition whilst in fact supporting all the smaller man’s weight.

“You’ll still be better off than Mycroft. That was cruel punishment even for him.” Sherlock pointed out, though he still grinned.

“I’m not going to let him carry on getting away with these things scot free.” Q complained, thinking of the midwife and the shopping and now this. It wasn’t that he felt particularly spiteful, but being the youngest he did still revel in occasionally one-upping his older brothers.

“Come on, cinema next-“

“Cup of tea first?” Q requested, and began pushing himself upright… it did not go entirely well, several giant bouncy exercise balls paid the price for his clumsiness. The two betas were soon on either side of him and escorting him firmly towards the gym’s cafe to wait for the three alphas.

 

-00Q00-

 

James couldn’t quite decide if he felt pleased at Mycroft’s suffering, cruel, or impressed. They’d put the alpha on a short regime that would test him, but not be beyond the bounds of what someone of his level of fitness could endure.

The eldest Holmes had swallowed the bitter pill of Q’s demands that he not be the only one making a total fool of himself with resignation and exasperation. He had not enjoyed it, but at least he hadn’t complained.

That alone had impressed Alec; James had just seen more of that core of steel coming to the surface. Mycroft would not be bested by something so petty as exhaustion, even if he clearly despised exercise and would never step foot in the place again. The alpha wasn’t at all fit, but seemed to push through the work out with a determination so eerily reminiscent of both brothers that James couldn’t help but respect him a little more.

None of them would stand to loose face, and they were all exceedingly hard working.

Still, the man was panting, red faced, and looked utterly dishevelled for the first time in James’ memory by the time his ordeal was over.

“Ha! Didn’t think you had it in you.” Alec cheered, clapping Mycroft soundly enough on the back that the man staggered and glowered. His glare looked so much like Q’s that James almost felt fond. It was much easier, feeling friendly with Mycroft now that the man had deigned to look vulnerable around them.

“Yes, well, as appreciative as I am of your… _training_ , I believe a drink is in order.”

“First sensible thing you’ve said all day.” Alec agreed. Maybe Mycroft hadn’t realised it yet, but Alec was actually deigning to bond with him. As much as he did anyone worthwhile.

James wiped his face of the sweat from his own work out and patted the older alpha on the shoulder.

“This is why god invented massages.” James informed comfortingly. Alec groaned.

“You and your spas-“

“Just because you enjoy the plunge pool more than having the kinks worked out-“

“I just don’t have kinks.”

“Your face is a kink.”

“You just want to see Q pliant and half naked on a table.”

“…Well, there is that.” James grinned, unashamed, as Alec snickered and Mycroft regained his composure.

They came out towards the café to see none other than Eve sitting at the round table with Q, Sherlock and John, the latter two blushing furiously as Eve alternatively cooed and put Sherlock in his place with a witty return, Q shaking his head in sympathy.

Next to him, Mycroft brightened like the sun had come out. He managed to look distinguished in the borrowed t-shirt and tracksuit even if his eyes betrayed minute sings of embarrassment and discomfort.

Eve, however, merely looked over, grinned, and slipped over to them as they came closer with a sinuous grace, expression impressed and sympathetic.

“What have you been forcing my brave man into?” She smiled, slipping an arm through Mycroft’s offered one and curling a hand around non-descript bicep, giving it a gentle squeeze as though he were a raging hunk straight off of Muscle Beach.

“You managed to get away.” Mycroft smiled, genuinely and obviously pleased with seeing Miss Moneypenny.

“I couldn’t stay away when I heard you were so close to London’s best spa, bear. Why ever would I miss such an opportunity to combine my favourite things?” Mycroft almost looked momentarily bashful.

“You flatter me.”

“And I shant stop. Besides, your charming brothers and friend doctor could use a little pick me up-“

“I do not!” Sherlock retorted childishly.

“You’d best be able to prove that.” Moneypenny challenged with a minx-like smile, and Sherlock grumbled into defeat.

“Come on, I’ve booked some treatments.” Eve headed towards the desk with Mycroft, Sherlock and John following with equally mutinous expressions. James went to pick up Q, who was resolutely not moving until his tea was finished.

“Sherlock gave up easily.” James reflected, Q, looking thoroughly exercised, merely shrugged.

“Its women, especially alpha women, he can never quite say no to the ones who treat him like he’s special and offer him a challenge.” James thought for a moment.

“Mother issues.” Q grimaced.

“Please don’t.” He pulled a face at the thought of looking into such things, but didn’t deny it. James dropped the topic as Q finished the cup and Alec came to stand next to them, he was looking blindsided.

“Did that… really just happen?” He asked, frowning in disbelief after Eve and Mycroft. Q stood and patted both their shoulders in commiseration.

“Yes, yes it did. Still want to go in? I expect we’ve got time to bolt.”

“And miss you out of your clothes covered in oil?” Alec shot him a grin that clearly said ‘pervert’, Q blushed to his toes.

“Yes, well, ahem.”

“It’s not perverse if he’s my mate.”

“You just keep telling yourself that.” James pushed Alec into a large potted plant, both of them grinning and Q sighing in fond exasperation behind them.

 

-00Q00-

 

Even now, nearly two months after his assault in the abandoned factory, Q still found himself tender in some places, the muscles over his shoulders and upper back in particular, sometimes around the wrists.

Usually omegas, betas and alphas were in separate spa areas, but pregnancy swayed some things. There were few alphas truly comfortable with their pregnant mate being alone with a stranger in the room. So James had his massage beside Q.

It was nice, it was a comfort. Q couldn’t really understand all the intricate shifts within his body over the last six months, but he hoped some of them would remain after it was over. The love he felt for James had increased exponentially, something he hadn’t believed possible, and had everything to do with sharing such an experience together. Sometimes there was also a bone deep comfort in his own skin that Q had only felt for moments before; when he became Q, when he had just had his first heat together with James… Finally the building affection and excitement, when the terror abated, for the life growing inside him, it was unbelievable. He hoped that he wouldn’t burst from it, or ever loose it.

“Nearly at the third trimester then, you’re looking in great shape for it.” Q didn’t care if she was lying; his ego was pleased and hormonal enough to overlook the nature of her profession. “How about I work on your back and hips a bit to start with, that should ease some strain.”

James’ eyes rarely left Q’s body as the omega let himself melt. It wasn’t quite as relaxing as when James massaged him, but the omega behind him had the advantage of more oils and warming scrubs than they had at home.

Q could have dripped off the table by the end, when they went to wash off and re-clothe. James was nervous about him using the sauna, and although Q would have quite enjoyed watching James in all his naked glory for a bit longer, their shared shower was also thoroughly pleasant…

And no one heard his muffled moans and James’ panting as they slid together and made the most of their bodies’ supple relaxation.

James practically did have to carry Q out of the spa, confident and suave in a way that made everyone overlook his mate’s sated expression and dragging feet. He managed to recover by the time they got back to the café to wait for the others, the sky dark outside and feeling the bite of winter. James dashed to the car quickly to retrieve Q’s very smart new black coat, bundling him up as they sat and waited, enjoying a warm drink and each other’s company.

“I’ve been thinking.” James took a sip of his coffee. “We haven’t thought about any names.” Q pondered this for a moment.

“Names are complicated…” He thought. “We don’t know the gender after all. Did you have any thoughts?”

“Not really, I wanted to see what they look like, then decide.” Q grinned at him with a little laugh over his cup of coffee.

“We’re driving everybody mad, all these last minute discoveries and decisions.” James smiled back at him, eyes full of delight and mischief and satisfaction and pride, love, a myriad of other emotions that Q wanted to drink in forever rather than analyse and name.

“That’s what I enjoy most, that we can have these surprises together… That I get this, with you, get to see this all happen.” James’ words had always struck a cord in Q, from the first ‘bloody big ship’ onwards. The man would never cease to surprise him, amaze him, boundless wit and intelligence and timing, such depth and breadth of emotion wrapped within him. Emotions that Q could never hope to feel the like of, the complexity, but could spend all day watching in the smallest movements of James’ lips when they moved.

He smiled, letting the silence speak where he could have made a quip.

James, his wonderful, surprising James, had never expected to get this far, had only toyed with the idea. Q knew that much, knew that he was lucky to have the entirety of James where before the man had only shared snippets or gotten hurt. Q would do anything to prevent the light going out of James’ eyes again as it had when they first met.

Q might have been nearly up to his eyeballs on drugs at the time, but he could remember that much about those blue eyes, the enticing spark of mischief and intrigue, amusement that woke him up.

Before this whole pregnancy started, Q had never thought he would have any of this either, thought wouldn’t have crossed his mind as an even vague reality.

“I enjoy that too. This, I enjoy this.” Q amended, reaching out to touch and take James’ hand just because he could, just because this man was his, and they had beaten the system their lives made them believe. “Let the others worry, it’s our pup.” James grinned.

“It is, isn’t it.” James agreed, fingers playing meaninglessly with Q’s. “Think I rather like the sound of that.”

The others made their way out not long after, and John announced that they’d be getting an extra few people tagging along to the cinema.

“Greg got off his shift early and Molly’s free, nice to have a gathering.”

“Greg?”

“ _Lestrade_ , Sherlock, come on you know that.” They piled into an assortment of Mycroft’s car and some taxis and made their way over, Q wondering just when his extended pack had extended so much… and strangely finding he didn’t mind in the slightest.

 

-00Q00-

 

Altogether there were ten of them at the cinema, Mrs Hudson having made a surprise appearance. James felt strangely content in the ridiculously diverse group, but more than anything, he was truly fascinated by watching the interactions of Alec with one Molly. The shy omega clearly didn’t know what to do with the intrigued attentions on her, which had started as just conversation.

Sherlock, interestingly, seemed torn between grinning and glaring at Alec. Q murmured to him that the girl had a long-term crush on Sherlock, and that she had been imperative in his escape from Moriarty. Whilst the middle Holmes had never reciprocated the feelings, her unconditional loyalty had left its own claim on his heart.

On Molly’s part, she seemed completely bemused by being the one at the centre of attention. Alec was a lot to handle for anyone, and did nothing by half’s, but the man had a natural and unique talent for breaking through people’s barriers and surprising them. It was what made him such an effective agent at extracting information. Somehow he never took the expected route, and it was that that was catching Molly’s shocked and sweetly struck gaze.

And probably the shamelessly flouted muscles.

Q watched them with slightly more appraisal in his gaze.

“What are you thinking?” James asked him in a near silent murmur, the cinema done with and the lot of them sitting around a large table for dinner.

“I can’t tell him, but just watch out for them. She’s a good person, but Molly has loved my brother unconditionally for years up to this point. And probably always will. It’s hard, to fight what your heart wants.”

James looked at Q for a long moment, and then over to his best friend and a blushing, giggling girl who looked a little star struck and utterly harmless.

But James could see the wisdom in his mate’s words. If anything came of the two of them, and there wasn’t enough room for Alec in that girl’s heart, James wouldn’t let her break it. And neither would Q…

The realisation was a splash of warmth.

 

-00Q00-

 

They got back to their house late, and basked in the quiet of their room together, Q curled around him like a contented cat and James stroking his spine and belly. Q’s fingers stroked over the alpha’s waist, slowly revelling in the contact. James kissed his mate’s temple and tucked Q’s head under his chin.

“Wont be long now, love.”

“Mm, you might have to tell me again a few weeks down the line when I’m desperate for it to be over.” Q murmured sleepily, and James smiled, holding him closer.

“But for now?” He asked, softly, teasing only a little. Q took a deep, relaxed breath against him. James hoped that after all the activity and exercise of the day, Q would finally get a full night’s sleep.

“But for now, this is nice, this is what I want.” Q replied, worming in a little deeper with a movement James happily accommodated. Stroking Q’s warm skin, November night closing in around them, a strange sense of both peace and exhilaration descended around him.

Rumbles rolled between them, gave another of those strengthening kicks that made Q shift a bit in sleepy surprise. James stroked the swollen belly and muttered “soon pup,” gently into the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This wasn't a very busy chapter, but I hope it was still enjoyable. I'm aiming (hoping? praying?) that I'll have more writing time this week, I should do anyway, so that there will be more soon.
> 
> In the meantime, if there are any more niggling ideas chuck 'em my way! Not all may be used, but there's 1/2 chapters left until my next solid plot line of the story, and its always inspiring and fun to hear you guys' plots and thoughts! :)
> 
> Until then, thank you for your patience, and for the gorgeous comments last chapter, and the multitude of kudos, and most of all thank you for reading. :3


	35. H0: The common cold; H1: Alpha-Omega man flu

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A couple of days late, sorry guys! I had some debate on how to take a particular direction during this chapter. Sorted now!  
> Hope you enjoy :)

“Left agent. Closest exit is three doors down.” There was silence on the other end of the line, save for running. Q wasn’t used to such quiet, not from this agent.

He should be glad that 008 wasn’t throwing insults, but instead it just made him tense with suspicion. The mission was complete, technically Q didn’t need to stay on the line, but he liked to make sure his agents made it to safety properly. The silence remained when, twenty minutes later, 008 made it to the safe house, panting slightly.

_“Q?”_

“Yes.” He responded, fingers slowing slightly on his coding project.

_“Any other ears?”_ Q took quick note. He was on a closed circuit line after the mission’s completion. Someone else would have to alert him by signing into the call frequency before they overheard, but Q could easily enough patch someone through if 008 was about to get creative.

“Not at present.” It was a warning as much as anything else, that Q could and would bring in another person if required.

There was a long minute of hesitation, just deep breaths over the line.

_“I heard what happened. Your absence.”_ Q’s mouth went slightly dry in tension, anticipation of some of the attitude the agent had been giving R in his absence.

“Not an astounding development.” Q responded, voice clipped and cool. There was a little growl over the other end of the line.

_“Well, it is to some.” Here come the insults._ Q thought to himself.

“Is there something you’d like to say, Double oh Eight? You’ve never held your tongue yet.”

_“You’re not invincible, quartermaster, even with bloody Bond in the same building.”_

“Is that a threat?” Q demanded sharply, “This conversation can become public material with a few taps of my fingers, don’t forget that.”

_“Just keep it in mind alright! Fucking, over reactive omegas.”_ With that the man hung up, leaving Q glad to be rid of his odd jittery manner and ridiculous attitude.

He’d have to report it to M, of course. 008 just seemed to be spiralling downwards. But there was something even odder than usual about him that set Q’s hairs on end a little.

“With your bloody Bond in the same building…” Q muttered thoughtfully. It was true though, if anything awful did happen, to either of them, and they were floors apart, well.

The panic procedures only contacted in certain ways, and if Q was caught somehow without phone, signal, laptop or in a back end corridor, then he’d seriously struggle in current condition to defend himself enough to get to a location point.

If something went wrong, how soon would James even know? And not just a threat, but what about a medical issue, or if he started going into labour in the middle of the supermarket… He needed a different way to get through to James, and vice versa.

Tapping his fingers slightly, Q pulled open a drawer and begun looking through for solutions.

 

-00Q00-

 

“Are you done yet?” James asked, poking his head around the area of the basement that housed Q’s growing study. His pregnant mate sat back with a frown of concentration, putting down some lethally fine looking tools and slotting some covering on whatever he had been toying with. The alpha wasn’t exactly keen on Q engineering whilst pregnant, but there were times when a man had to know when to pick his battles.

“Just, finished.” Q announced, pushing away from the table and standing, his aged t-shirt almost too small to cover the entirety of his belly. The sight made the corner of James’ mouth tilt in pleasure.

“Here, I want you to wear this.” Q requested seriously, passing James a small, thumb sized plastic device with a large red button on it.

“Not your usual subtlety.” He commented, turning the mystery device over to see a miniature screen on the back.

“Well, it’s not work related, strictly speaking.” James frowned at him and examined the machine further, noting Q sliding a similar one around in his own hands. “It’s a panic alarm, press the button three times and it relays your position to me, go ahead and try.” Raising an eyebrow, James stamped a thumb on the button three times.

There was a small buzzing beep and Q lit up a little at the first sign of life from his new baby, turning the device in his hands around so that Bond could see the screen.

_-Home. Basement. Divider to study. 1 meter west.-_

“Impressive detail, but we’ve got this sort of thing already.” James pointed out. Q shook his head.

“Not quite. Trackers will tell me where you are if I know to look, and distress beacons will go straight to branch. Besides, there’s a certain feature I think you’ll like in particular.” Q jabbed a hitherto unseen button on his own device and James’ vibrated, beeping shrilly. Looking at the screen revealed Q’s location to perfection. He returned his gaze to Q.

“There wasn’t anything you had that would tell you specifically that I was in danger, and where… I got it for the pregnancy, mostly, since that isn’t strictly work-related. If I start going into labour when you’re in the middle of a milk run or couldn’t get to a phone, that sort of thing-“ The alpha halted his mate’s words with a fierce hug and kiss.

“What’s the range?” Q shrugged within James’ grasp.

“Should do most of London…want to test?” James grinned.

“I’d rather test other things.” He responded suggestively, hand drifting down to squeeze Q’s arse. With a smirk the omega stood back.

“Give me a ten minute head start, and I’ll take off one item of clothing for every time you find me.”

There weren’t words to describe how strongly the hunger of that challenge affected him.

“On your marks then, quartermaster.”

 

-00Q00-

 

A merry chase Q led him around London. Each time he turned up at ‘Charing Cross station, Burger King, back left corner’ or ‘Houses of parliament’ or ‘Princess Rose Chinese Restaurant, entrance’ to see Q smirking devilishly and holding up a sock or tie before escaping down a street.

James possessively gathered each of Q’s dropped items into a bag, torn between a growl of delight at the chase and desperate urge to finally catch Q and get him out of his clothes somewhere a hell of a lot more private.

Their game led them to hotel rooms before back home, in which Q had hidden things in places such as ‘under the coffee table’ and ‘bathtub’ before a final beep came through… location a hill on the outskirts James knew with a good view of London.

Heading to the garage, James smirked at the minx-like move when he saw the Aston gone, and just Q’s underwear casually hanging where they hid the spare car keys.

The taxi ride out there cost him a fair bob but it was worth it to clamber up the hill and be met with the sight of Q in nothing but his new fetching black winter coat leaning cockily against the bonnet of the Aston, hypnotic music coming from within and silhouetted by the dimmed headlights.

“Found me.”

“Found you.” Q smirked and slowly went to undo his coat before James growled with a grin and tackled him. Q squeaked a laugh that only slightly dimmed his seductive demeanour and wrapped legs around James’ waist when the alpha lifted him like a trophy and carried the omega to the back seat of his car where he could properly lie out the soon-pliant body.

 

-00Q00-

 

“Mmmnnuuughhh…” James was by now used to Q waking him during the night, given that the agent would wake at a pin drop. However, the inhuman noise next to him was rather unusual.

“Q?” He asked, rolling over and opening his eyes, one hand seeking the omega’s side searchingly. “Love?” Q performed a slow full-body squirm all the way down to his toes, frowning as he opened sleepless eyes and looked back at James a bit guiltily.

“Sorry. I woke you?” James kissed his forgiveness onto Q’s shoulder, hand rubbing up his mate’s arm soothingly.

“What’s wrong?” Q huffed, head flopping back onto the pillow and half-smiling across the room.

“Nothing really, just thoughts.” With a little groan Q rubbed his face and shook his unruly hair back. “Can’t sleep. Feel like I’m missing something…” James frowned and moved a hand to massage Q’s scalp gently at the contemplative words.

“Want to talk about it?” Q shrugged, stretching back into the curl of James’ body and bringing the alpha’s hand away from his head to cradle it between his own around swollen belly.

“I’m sure its nothing. Branch would give me a heads-up if anything was amiss, and none of the appliances are on. Just general disquiet of the mind.” Q stroked James’ hand idly and turned to meet his lips for a kiss, smiling calmly and with a bit of self-amusement. “Get back to sleep, if you can, its okay.”

“Alright.” James mumbled, and shifted himself into a more content position, curling his hand around Q’s belly further and letting the gentle traipse of fingertips over his hand and arm lull him. With all the sleep that Q had been missing here and there, James had inevitably lost a bit of his own. And he was tired, surprisingly. Without his mate’s knowledge, James had begun penning down some of the stories he had of certain missions.

For some reason, he always came back to starting with Vesper, and the Casino Royale, Le Chiffre… It was as if his brain was unable to contemplate the start before that.

Of course, there was plenty he could write about from before, but somehow that mission, all its ups and downs, the horrific conclusion, was the one that felt it needed writing the most.

The thought process for writing was something unlike anything James had encountered in his career. The content was exhausting. But still it was as if he was being driven to write it.

Without voicing his internal thoughts James tightened his grip on Q gently with a deep soothing sniff of his mate’s scent. Such a unique scent. It seemed, as expected, a little indecent to be spending so much time thinking and writing about Vesper in private. Part of him worried in that learnt-paranoia of a way he had that Q would find out, would be angry, wouldn’t understand…

James wasn’t doing this in memory of Vesper, rather in spite of it. If he could put that one thing to rest completely, in the open, never to be misread or concealed again, then he could keep going with the next, and the next.

Quite why he had the great idea to write a collection of memoires was probably something one of MI6’s shrinks would love a chance to look at, but there you had it.

Beyond whatever internal drive he had, James had been thinking of his new agents and their love for stories. He’d been thinking about mission reports and the bland interrogation of them and the facts. He’d been thinking about his pup, and his pup’s pups… and their pups…

There was a world and a legacy that maybe didn’t want idealising or world-wide recognition, but in the confines of an attic somewhere 200 years down the line, with him dead and gone and any generations they had spawned living whatever existence they had built for themselves… there would be tucked away a little part of himself, and Q. A permanent recording of how he had lived his life, and eventually found another to live it with him.

For Q would feature, heavily, of that there was no doubt.

And Alec, his M, Mallory, Eve… Well, everyone really.

A little, seemingly fictitious and easily overlooked recording of everything that was them; resting somewhere time couldn’t touch.

He’d like that, more than he’d thought possible.

_Well, we’ll see. One mission at a time, just get this one down first._ He thought to himself, settling deeper into his hold on Q and breathing deeply, enjoying the feeling of warm skin against warm skin and long fingers on his arm, the swell of pup under his arm, and drifted back to sleep.

Q’s sleeplessness roused James blearily a few more times. Some annoyed sighing and rubbing of the face before Q settled again. During the small hours, Q started shifting and shuffling around with an uncomfortable attempt at subtlety. James could read every movement pressed against Q as he was.

“Shh, shh,” James soothed quietly; shifting his hands and arms till he could encircle Q and rub his shakily huffing sides. “You alright?” He mumbled the words against Q’s ear, who nodded swiftly.

“Fine, I’m fine.” Q sounded mildly annoyed and a bit upset by his lack of sleep, utterly fed up.

“Just lean back, here, on me, deep breaths.” James coaxed, easing Q back against him again and trying to pass his sleepiness off onto his mate however he could. Q stilled for a few minutes before re-settling and breathing out with a long sigh. The temporary lack of movement was enough to send James back to sleep groggily.

Dreams involving a strange amount of buttered crabs living in Q’s stomach were interrupted when the omega slipped out of James’ arms and flicked the duvet off himself with a heated huff. The coolness left behind had James trying to pull him back with a sleepy demand and grumble but Q groaned and batted him off tiredly.

“Nuhhh s’too hot.” James growled a bit and flumped over onto his stomach, the only movement closer he could muster the energy for, and flung out a blind hand and foot to capture Q’s neck and shin stubbornly. Q grumbled at him but didn’t fight him off.

Over the next however long James roused with Q flipping the duvet back over himself, then off again, James kicked it off altogether for a minute before reclaiming it to shroud both of them, then Q was fighting frustratedly out of it again minutes later…

Dawn was turning the sky lighter when James finally woke up to the movement of Q sitting up on the side of the bed, back to James, breathing slowly.

“Go back to sleep.” Q muttered in a croaky quiet, calming him a bit. “I jus’ need a drink.”

“Fine,” James murmured back, turning over and spreading out on the bed so that he could blearily stroke down Q’s hot back with a sleepy hand. “S’okay, text me when you’re done. Get me a whiskey…”

“James?” Q turned to him, eyes a bit brighter and questioning in a stunned disbelief, but James just let his eyes close against the fuzzy-feeling of the room.

“I’ll be back by five.” He confirmed, waving Q off and sinking back into sleep dopily.

 

-00Q00-

 

“James, James. James. James! Come on you big-fine, okay, we’ll do it your way. Stubborn in your sleep, of course you are. Wonderful.” James didn’t know what on earth Q was on about but did hope the man was planning to stop whatever the hell he was doing in trying to push him around.

“Just, here, better, drink.” Not realising he was thirsty until the water touched his lips, James drank greedily, hands coming to frame the cup and Q’s hands around it. “Gently, gently, there not so much.” Q gentled, slowing his guzzling to safer swallows and sips. “Much better.”

Fuzzily, the alpha opened his eyes, taking a moment to focus Q, apparently kneeling on the floor beside him and frowning delicately, clad only in an open bathrobe.

“Q?” The omega smiled a bit, though the frown remained slightly.

“There you are.” James didn’t understand why Q was down there feeding him water and not curled up beside him.

“What’s going on-“ Coughs broke the rest of the sentence apart and Q moved to sit a bit closer, rubbing James’ chest and holding his head, face sympathetic in its frowning.

“You’re running a bit of a fever, that cough would explain it, just try and take this paracetamol, here.” More surprised than anything, James did as bid, although the dusty pills hurt his throat even with water. Eyes growing heavy, he looked over Q, seeing a slight flush to his cheeks amidst the mildly worried, caring expression and slightly shadowed eyes.

“You’re hot.” He realised with bleary concern, thumb slipping over Q’s heated face. The omega caught and kissed his hand gently before settling up on the bed beside him and curling the alpha’s body till his head rested on Q’s perfectly-pillowed tummy.

“Not as hot as you darling, just try to sleep through it.” Q soothed, hand scratching and massaging gently through Bond’s hair. Feeling his eyelids grow heavy, and seeing Q bring out a phone to play on, James curled his arms around Q’s waist possessively and rested against him with a protective growling. Q remained silent above him, breathing calmly and accepting James’ movements without fuss.

 

-00Q00-

 

“Are you sure its no trouble? Positive?” James walked round the doorway from the stairs to the living room, keeping a hand on the wall for balance and attempting not to stumble with his fuzz-filled head corrupting his balance. Honestly, who ever heard of a secret agent getting sick?

Q looked up from where he was curled in an armchair on the phone, and smiled to see James up and about.

“Well I can call for someone from medical.” James grimaced pointedly. Q glared ferociously and imperiously. James wisely chose to duck his head and shuffle into the kitchen instead. The feel of Q’s sharp eyes on his back remained, watching for overexertion.

“No I’m fi-“ Q broke away to cough a few times into his shoulder, James lurched upright and promptly met the floor face first, body aching. “James! Oh damn it. No, no we’re fine. Just come over please, if you have the time, and bring some medication. Get the drowsy stuff if you have to. James,” Q hung up as he crouched down beside the mutinously prone alpha. “Are you alright, did you hit your head?”

“No, I’m fine.” But a flailing attempt to get up proved otherwise. Q muted his attempts with a simple hand to the back.

“Here, roll over, gently now.” Q helped ease him into a sitting position, where James was driven to cough and felt his lungs flare angrily. “Drink.” Q offered in his no-nonsense fashion, and the alpha accepted the water gratefully with a moan.

“Feel like a dying horse.”

“Well if you’d let me drug you you could be asleep right now.” Q pointed out, setting the water away and getting up to offer James his hands. “Come on, up. The floor’s no good for you.” Cracking open bleary eyes the alpha looked at Q, still in dressing gown tied around belly and sleepy haired, a bit fretfully pale and tired.

“Slave driver.” He grumbled, pouting a bit. Q raised a single eyebrow. “Pretty slave driver.” James corrected with an attempt at a wining grin. It gained him a restrained amused smile and roll of eyes.

“Ever the charmer. Now, up.” Still grumbling, James let himself be hoisted up, trying to use as much of his own volition as possible and accidentally careening into Q when standing. The omega stumbled a bit but kept upright with the weight after a small, surprised laugh. “Close enough, come on tiger, back to bed.”

“Sofa’s fine. Hungry.” James managed shortly, slowly shuffling to the sofa with his mate’s aid. There was another slight chortle.

“Alright, okay, down we go.” James sat, breathing out a sigh when he could lean back and purposefully pulling Q down with him. “I’ve called John, he’s coming over. I assumed that he’s as close to medical assistance as you’ll accept?” Q informed, rearranging the pillows around James and pulling a blanket over him. The alpha just groaned in a suffering kind of way and lent to plant his face in Q’s neck, enjoying the heat and closeness indulgently.

It had taken all of three months for James to take thorough advantage of all the comfort Q offered whilst he was injured or ill. To be honest, it was immensely satisfying to know that he could be the biggest lump in the world, and Q would still love him for it. The more James wanted to take, the more Q would give, until the alpha became thoroughly greedy for all the unconditional care and affection that comforted his wounded inner-pride.

In no other relationship had James had a partner who really wanted to see his vulnerable side. Or, at least, there was no one else he would fully let his guard down with and feel like they were happy to be what he needed, rather than the other way around, for a change.

For someone who put so much stock in being strong, to find someone who adored him regardless of petulance, stubbornness and physical or mental weakness was a rare treat.

Q hummed good-naturedly and settled them both so that James was more comfortable, stroking fingers through his hair in a way that soothed the fog back from his mind a little. Happy to remain in Q’s willing embrace and soak up the feel of him, James curled closer and let the miserable feeling of his body be eased slightly by his mate’s gentle strokes.

Soon enough he’d get up, he had to make sure Q was really okay after all, and get some food…

 

-00Q00-

 

“I can’t believe the two of you managed to get sick at the same time.” James and Q had the decency to look mildly chastised in the face of John’s utter disbelief. The beta looked pointedly at Q.

“You should know better, sleeping in the same bed as a sick person when pregnant.” Q spluttered as Sherlock snickered in the background.

“Me!?” James just smirked, until it dissolved into a coughing fit. The omega frowned.

“I could hardly leave him could I? Not when I was barely sick…” Q pointed out, crossing his arms stubbornly. Both brothers met eyes for a long minute, seemingly in some kind of silent challenge. One that Sherlock evidently won when Q failed to stifle his much gentler coughing. John just sighed at their antics.

“Never mind that. Right, James, bed rest, fluids and this,” the doctor handed over a bottle that Bond took dubiously before seeing it to be filled with little worse than cough and fever syrup. “And Q, you’re just on the bed rest and fluids, if you get worse go to your real doctor, and no running round after James. And James no running round after Q.”

“We are going to need to eat.” James pointed out dryly, ignoring the roughness of his throat and general unnatural warmth.

“You know what I mean. Oh, that reminds me,” The man dug back into his medical bag for the stethoscope he’d just put away. “I wanted to try something.” Q met James’ eyes quizzically as the beta moved forwards from his perch on the coffee table and placed the stethoscope over Q’s belly. A little smile lit John’s face, Sherlock coming forwards curiously behind him.

“Here,” the doctor offered with a grin at the pair of them, and slid the earplugs out of his ears to offer them to Q. The omega took them with questioning glances around and slotted the buds in. Within moments, his face changed into amazed surprise.

“Oh!”

“What?” James and Sherlock demanded at the same time. Q grinned a bit and looked at them both whilst handing the earpieces over to James.

“Listen.” James did, and heard the rhythmic little beating of their pup’s heart. His face caught Q’s grin before Sherlock butted in and propositioned the stethoscope for himself.

“Let me hear…” The other three watched the detective’s eyes slowly slide shut.

Sherlock spent a long time listening.

 

-00Q00-

 

“There was never a guarantee that this job would be easy, but this is just getting ridiculous.”

“Less talk, more putting your back into it.” R looked at him with a mild helpless horror as Q heaved and panted. “Come on! I know this wasn’t in the fine print but ‘to assist your quartermaster’ was… and sometimes life just spits in the face of your code regardless.” Q didn’t need to watch his second in command to see the man’s exhausted and mildly desperate frown.

“That’s not how the phrase goes.”

“I’m making it up as I go along…” Q paused after a step and dropped his half of the burden in favour of leaning against the wall and panting, wiping the sweat from his brow. R staggered back to the desk opposite him in similar fashion. Hands on knees and working his tie looser.

“You sure this is necessary boss?” Q gestured weakly in his mate’s general direction.

“We can hardly leave him on the floor.” R looked willing to fight him on that point, so Q held up his hands in order to quell the argument. “I didn’t know he’d come in, or else I would have warned security to take him straight to medical.” He dropped his hands tiredly, R’s expression both a little frightened and more sympathetic.

“Come on, he’s nearly on the mattress, and think how impressed your Double oh Five will be when you tell him you lugged Double oh Seven half way across the room.” R shook his head in disbelief at the situation, but straightened nonetheless with some renewed tenacity.

“Alright, but I want it taken under common knowledge that I had no part in this until the cleanup, and that I in no way recommended this course of action.” Q rolled his eyes at his second with amused exasperation.

“Bloody Health and Safety department getting to you again?”

“No, Double oh Five told me that doing the pair of you a favour was just one slippery step away from being indoctrinated into the pack.” The beta teased, and Q half-grinned.

“I’ll have you know we have a lovely pack. Once a month ritual sacrifices and everything.”

“It wouldn’t surprise me.”

“Charming. Now come on, lets do this before my arms decide to loose the will to battle.” R chuckled and they both bent to grasp James under the arms and knees again. “Alright, on three. One, two, three-“

With an almighty heft and heave, and not a few jostles, the two of them managed to get the alpha onto the mattress in Q’s study and resting comfortably. Both men retreated to chairs and tea after. Q carefully pushed away the cup he had dosed with James’ drowsy cough medicine… He hadn’t expected it to take effect quite so dramatically.

Any guilt Q had was swiftly diminished by the memories of just how childish James had been about the whole affair.

Accept comfort, oh yes fine, medication? No, at least not alone. Well, Q couldn’t be doing with the man being so stubborn when the coughing clearly hurt him and his only stubborn response about the whole thing was ‘I’m fine’. As if he was anything close.

Q shook his head almost fondly. His James could be an oaf at times, but sometimes the omega didn’t half wonder if his mate put it on just to drive him up the wall. James knew full well that he needed the medicine, but stay at home alone and take the damn stuff? Oh no, of course not. Whether it was because the man really didn’t want Q to go into work alone or for the rather more upsetting reason that James didn’t like being left alone and medicated, the omega wouldn’t press to ask.

For now it was enough that James would let himself be willingly dosed under the condition of still being within mate-grabbing range. After all, even feeling poorly James wasn’t one to miss the distinct taste of cough syrup.

Well, quite a bit of Q would rather have him close too. Even if he and R had just had to lug the man’s considerably well built body a good few meters across the office. At least he knew James was safe.

 

-00Q00-

 

“I’m only going in for a couple of hours.” James crossed his arms regardless of Q’s attempt at pacifying him.

“If you can go in for a few hours, so can I.” Q’s decidedly unimpressed expression only made the alpha shift slightly into a firmer position.

“This morning it took you three attempts to get out of bed.” He pointed out, eyebrow raised. James just lifted one of his own pale ones right back.

“It took you two.”

“I’m carrying extra body weight.”

“That doesn’t excuse anything.” Q grumbled a bit. Truth be told he was fighting a loosing battle. It wasn’t as if he could force a full grown man, not to mention alpha, to stay at home. He had just rather hoped that James might have taken the sensible option for once.

Their weekend had not been fun. Between James’ illness and lack of general body coordination, and Q’s own under-the-weather-ness preventing him from getting anything even vaguely like a decent night’s sleep, they had hardly been the life and soul. It didn’t help that they were both trying to fret about the other.

Generally Q was winning, being the least sick, but James could teach mules lessons on stubbornness when it came to things he’d set his mind on.

They’d had more than a few bickers over whom should be the one making coffee.

Q cleared his sore throat and looked back at James.

“You’re not to fall asleep in my office again unless you’re already on the mattress-“

“Hardly my fault.”

“-And I want you wearing your panic alarm-“ James just held it up from his pristine coat pocket with a smirk and wandered over to his huffing mate, managing to miraculously avoid tripping over the furniture this time. Q felt a flare from James’ alpha pheromones as the man gently pushed him up against the wall to kiss his neck predatorily.

“Do I really need permission to look after you?” James asked softly, voice dangerous and powerful and doing things to Q that really shouldn’t be made to happen before going into the office.

“If you’re going to be making yourself unwell, yes.” James growled quietly and bit Q’s throat a bit, making him stifle a gasp, though the omega’s eyelids fluttered regardless.

Damn if the man wasn’t even more possessive than usual with his inhibitions lowered over their joint sickness. James didn’t care he was sick at all, just cared that he wasn’t curled up with Q somewhere safe.

Of course the quartermaster would be lying if he said he didn’t like James’ dominant side on several deep and not-so-deep levels, but he was genuinely concerned that James might work himself back up to the low-grade fever he had just broken.

“You’ve been exhausting yourself taking care of me,” James murmured against the newly sensitive skin of his neck, lips brushing and kissing occasionally. “You can’t keep me from coming in with you after that.” Q let out a dual moan of resignation and pleasure as James bit him again with a little growl of dominance and delight at his acquiescence.

“Oh fine. But no…nibbling me at work.” James grinned and gave Q one last deep bite and a hearty grope that served to lift Q off the ground a bit and nearly send them both toppling. Yelping and swatting at James Q regained his balance and fixed another unimpressed glance up at his completely unrepentant alpha.

“You’re a menace.”

“A handsome menace?”

“Mostly just a menace.” Q could have done without the ensuing play-growl and tickling, frankly, considering he already look vaguely unfit for work with his illness. It also transpired that spending nearly a week at home on bed rest was far too much for James, given that he had entirely too much energy to burn and yet not the full bill of health to fully use it.

Q enjoyed it, really, he loved James’ cheeky and playful sides… when combined with the man feeling particularly dominant it went right to the omega’s groin… But not so much when the man overbalanced and nearly toppled into the coat stand, saved only by flailing arms and Q grabbing him tightly.

They stood for a moment, getting their breath and, in James’ case, pride back.

“I think I’m driving.” Q announced finally, against him, James conceded defeat and nodded.

“I think you are.” It was probably the most graceful thing the agent had done all morning. Q kissed him with a smile in exchange for the keys and James decided to once again become content with a bit of doting, sprawling into the passenger seat and fiddling with the radio and heating until interior conditions were perfect before lounging back, satisfied.

Q just shook his head fondly and hoped that there would be something to keep James busy with for the few hours they were at work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter should have been called 'the one where scenes start with speech'... yeah. I don't know why that happened, but then it was a theme and I had to stick with it 'xD
> 
> I usually try to write something meaningful/informative here...but I am _starving_ so I must go eat instead! I'm sure ya'll understand ;D
> 
> Response for last chapter was incredible! Thank you all who took the time to review or kudos, I didn't know it would be such a fun chapter! As always thank you for reading, and see you next time, where yes, FINALLY there will be more M clan for those who have been hankering ;3 Much good week luck to you!


	36. H0: Ballroom Blitz; Office Onslaught.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh god guys, I'm so sorry for the TWO WEEK wait. Let's just say the System Overload Avalanch happened to my brain this week. And then there was the work place xmas party last night. Deepest apologies, I hope to get another chapter up this weekend to make up for it!
> 
> All reviews WILL be answered, as soon as I can, I might focus on writing the next chapter first but I enjoyed reading every one of them!
> 
> Hopefully, this is a good chapter for you anyway, so enjoy!
> 
>  **WARNING:** 008's language.

Q sat at his desk rubbing his belly. Sitting was highly preferable to standing given his current weight and slight sickness. Truthfully it was probably the only way he could manage work this week, and had taken to more or less pushing himself around the office on the wheeled chair.

He felt absolutely huge, and heavy, and he was going to get bigger yet.

“Christ.” Q mumbled, rubbing his hands up under glasses. Blasty was wonderful and rumbling, when not kicking occasionally –thankfully gently- but regardless, Q felt undeniably pregnant today. Aching back, feet, legs, head, hips and all. Not to mention he was a bit less stable. Hopefully he wasn’t coming down with the same balance issues that James was suffering, because it would be an absolute nightmare of a combo. Relaxing himself, Q took a deep breath and sighed.

“Alright quartermaster?” Q swivelled around in his chair, seeing 005 rolling towards him. The omega had offered to motorise and weaponise his wheelchair, but the man had refused with a highly worried expression. One day, Q was sure he could get his hands on it… spokes for wheels-

“You’re doing it again.” Dior pointed out with mildly nervous assertion.

“Doing what?”

“Eyeing up my chair like it’s Bond’s new hand gun. Stop it.” Q offered a smile, but remained unrepentant as the man stopped beside him.

“You can hardly stop me from doing my job.”

“Remind me to never annoy you when you’re a pensioner.” 005 remarked.

“Or simply never annoy me. Now, to what do I owe the pleasure?” The ex-agent grinned and spread out a small pile of paper files. Q did his best not to grimace at their presence on his desk, but couldn’t help but be a little repulsed.

“Don’t panic, they’re not staying there, just wondering what your thoughts were on camera placings for the re-built corridor.”

“You mean other than anywhere and everywhere?” Q queried vaguely as he pulled the plans over and began pouring over them. “Are you sure this is strictly speaking logistics? And besides that, my surveillance regimen for the whole building is well within your security clearance, and not exactly high priority-“

“Well, actually, its about R.” Q looked over, startled.

“My R?”

“Yes…” Q frowned at the shifty expression.

“Well, spit it out agent, we haven’t got all day.” Quite frankly, he preferred gossip and personal conversations to be conducted during breaks rather than during work hours… not that the message ever seemed to reach Eve… or any of the double oh’s… or that poor omega from HR that he had found crying in the unisex omega toilets that one time.

“Right, well, couldn’t have a word with him could you?” Q frowned sharply, last he’d heard R’s performance had been nothing short of exemplary, and his relationship with 005 untarnished.

“If this is a formal complaint then-“ Louis held up a hand in utterly surprised defence.

“God no! He just wont book his birthday off work.” Q deflated, closing his eyes in disbelief at the conversation, since when had he been in charge of holiday plans? Other than overseeing that there were no gaps in work coverage of course.

“W-what?” He tried again, rubbing his head with increasing ache.

“He’s worried that because of you and Bond M won’t have any patience for another Q-branch/double oh couple and he doesn’t want to rock the boat but I’d made plans, he’s helped me out a lot and-“ Q halted him with a hand, getting the drift of the conversation and nodding before he became far too deeply involved. Not that he wasn’t fond of 005; quite the contrary, but this bordering too much upon romantic interference for his aching head and work ethic.

“I’ll have a talk with him, but that’s all, and I don’t promise anything. Better if you sorted it out yourselves.”

“But you wouldn’t mind?” 005 clarified, a bit eager under his reasonable demeanour. Q offered a smile.

“As long as he gives me sufficient notice and your both conducting your work appropriately, treating each other well, then I don’t see how its any of my business to take issue.”

“Cheers Q.” 005 grinned and clapped Q rather unnecessarily hard on the back, squeezing his neck and shaking him a little in playful exuberance. Q could have done without it, but didn’t get a chance to respond before there was a lethal growl from behind them. Both men turned to see none other than 008 in his customary long black coat glaring gleaming nightmares from the doorway and clearly in agressive-posture. Q’s eyes went wide.

“Get your _filthy_ hands off him you _traitorous bastard_.”

 

-00Q00-

 

James had tried to occupy his mind with after mission reports for all of twenty minutes –Alec’s had given him an entertaining fifteen- before giving up entirely and leaning back on his chair.

Truth be told, he felt wretched. Being ill without Q nearby was utterly miserable. Half of him regretted coming in so forcefully the last few days, but being at home bored might have been even more miserable. And besides, it would be lunch soon, and he wanted to be with Q.

His mate was hugely, wonderfully pregnant in such an obvious way that James found himself in a nearly constant state of worry. Sometimes Q ached, or couldn’t quite get up flawlessly, and he was getting big enough that the alpha simply wanted to herd him into a nest and growl everyone else away until their pup was ready… and then repeat the behaviour for the both of them.

In his opinion, Q was simply too pregnant to be allowed anywhere even vaguely dangerous when alone. Which MI6 most certainly was and Q-branch more so. Plus, Q was now in the third and final trimester.

Not only did that mean the finishing line was almost scarily in sight, but it meant that James’ protective instincts were going through the roof. The closer they got to the due date the more and more imperative it became to protect Q from all harm at all costs. They’d made it so far that anything happening didn’t bear thinking about, not the least because at this stage, anything happening could pose a much more severe complication to Q, not just their baby.

Both pup and Q needed to be entirely safe. In fact, even being in the office two floors away was too much.

With a decisive huff the alpha stood, only wobbling slightly in a way that was easily ignored, and began making his way downstairs.

It was when he was simple corridors away that Q’s new panic alarm began beeping and vibrating in a frenzy of alert.

Blood run cold for barely a split second whilst James grabbed the device and scan read the location, already lurching into sprinted motion.

 

-00Q00-

 

There was utter, terrifying stillness for a moment before 005 made the unknowable mistake of instinctively trying to push Q behind him the same time the omega attempted to turn and address the situation.

It looked like a protested restraining action.

It set 008 into absolute outrage.

Q just managed to follow the violent movement as the alpha agent charged the beta with a feral roar.

“Stop!” The chair he was on was kicked by a flailing arm or leg as he tried to stand impotently. Sent skidding and then crashing across his office Q shook himself to stabs of pain from bruised back and the terrifying sound and sight of the two agents tearing into each other with ferocious snarls. Gasping as they rolled closer Q panicked and did the first thing that came to mind as he scrambled out the way. As the agents missed him by millimetres Q slammed the panic alarm around his neck three times.

008 had the upper hand, but 005 was destructively defensive in his knowledge of it. Blood spattered from the alpha’s lip as a knee dug into 005’s stomach and sent him roaring.

Q had literally no idea what to do, panting and flinching away from the violence, looking around for something to stun them, if he could get to the desk at the back… Q lurched up, nearly lost his footing, and caught the briefest glimpse of his branch shouting in horror as he rummaged through the desk, cursing, trying to keep an eye on the growling agents.

008 was somehow thrown his way. Crashed into the desk Q was rifling through moments before he yelped and scrambled onto the surface to avoid getting flattened.

“008 stop this madness!” Q shouted, voice barely maintaining control as 005 somehow found a gun and pulled it before the alpha could grab his own.

“Shit!” Q made for the cover of being not near 008 when the man blew all previous connotations out of the water.

“Get down!” Q wasn’t sure what to call the shocked sound that escaped his throat as 008 threw himself over the omega, flattening him roughly but thoroughly, covered from fire even as 005 cursed…

Which was of course the moment James burst into the office; whole body a snarl and eyes pinned with utterly deadly focus on the two dangers to his mate.

005 with a gun pointed at them, breathing roughly and bleeding. 008 covering him, growling, muscles tensed to fight. Q had no idea what to do, only just able to see out his mate, but before he could wordlessly mouth James’ name the alpha was launched across the office, hurling desks out the way at lightning speed to rip 008 off.

“ _James_!”

Q grabbed for purchase on the desk and screamed his mate’s name as the two alphas battered and clubbed at each other like warring beasts rather than men.

005 was crawling towards the fight before it fell on top of him when James entirely missed his footing, eyes briefly rolling and Q could only shriek as the three of them went down under a desk with roars and audible, sickening cracks. The collapsing equipment smothered the noise.

All was silent for long moments other than Q’s scrabbling off the desk and harsh panting. His branch leapt into action again as their boss begun wrenching the debris off his agents, his mate, panic coursing through him.

R was beside him in moments, helping. Security arrived and though confused added their muscle as the group uncaringly threw the desk off the groaning men in an unnaturally tangled heap.

“Someone get medical!” Q heard himself say, voice croaked. There was a rising clamour form the branch as Q and R ducked down and ascertained whether or not they could pull the stunned agents apart.

008 was still snarling, one hand clawed into 005’s shirt at the neck. R unclenched the fingers with a fury Q had never seen on the man, but he was too busy shoving both agents off his James, his James, oh god his James…

He was coughing weakly, and had a few bruises and scrapes, had one of his feet crooked out at a horrifically unnatural juncture.

Q couldn’t even speak. Instead after a moment’s awful pause he regained the sense to check James’ breathing –fine, and his responses –coming around. Only when James’ eyelids were flickering back in awareness, hand tightening in pain around Q’s shaking one, did the omega begin to entirely take in the event and straighten his back commandingly. He wouldn’t remove himself from kneeling against James’ side though.

“Get them separated until medical arrive. We need to find out what caused this. Minnie call up 008’s latest movements and have medical run a drug test. Martin get M and Tanner. R, you stay with double oh five.” By the time he was finished security were, safely as they could, separating the mildly conscious and injured agents to different corners of the office, Q helping move James back against the wall. Security mostly stayed around 008 and 5 after Q briefed them on the situation, most of them giving Q swift, worried scans that made him have to fight the urge to cradle his belly. He wasn’t in the least bit hurt. Shaken, yes, and might have a bruise on his shoulder tomorrow, but he wouldn’t fall prey to that until the situation was contained.

M entered the room with a barely contained fury along with medical and Tanner. James chose that moment to crack his eyes fully awake and wince a bit before looking over at his mate.

“Q?” the omega couldn’t tell if he was more weakened or strengthened at the man’s calm query, as if he wasn’t lying with a bloody broken ankle in a heap on his office floor. He did know there was a concerned smile on his face laced with relief at James waking.

“I’m here… You’re fine, well, I suspect, broken ankle.” He murmured, squeezing James’ hand and reaching out to stroke his hair briefly before drawing back to shoulder when medical descended.

James kept his gaze mostly on Q’s eyes, not looking concerned for himself in the slightest.

“Get him looked over.” The alpha commanded, Q shook his head.

“I’m fine.”

“D-“

“ _Sh-shut up_ and get looked at.” Q murmured in a snap, feeling the shakes increasing at seeing James hurt, smelling him still sick and injured, unable to cope with his alpha being stubborn right now. James appeared to realise this and protested no further, though he still kept his blue eyes on Q.

“Definitely broken, not clean, we’ll need to set it down in medical. Get a stretcher.” The lead doctor ordered, and Q felt his gut twist, squeezing James’ hand.

“You’ll be fine.” He added, uselessly, given that James, breathing shallowly through the pain, merely stroked his hand with a thumb again unconcernedly.

“I know.” The agent remarked, kindly, keeping a very focused watch on Q. Of course, to Bond, what was a single broken ankle compared to worse? Q just closed his eyes with a deep breath, shaking his head.

“ _Christ_ James.”

“Hey, focus on me,” James commanded, trapping Q’s wits back together with a squeeze of his hand on the omega’s white-knuckled one. “Its remarkably easy to break ankles. People do it every day. I just lost my balance.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better.” Q interrupted in a miserable rush. With another breath he held up a hand to indicate he was trying to cope, letting it fall back on his mate’s chest. “Just, don’t move for a while, alright?” James pulled Q’s hand to his mouth for a kiss before smiling at him.

“Swear on my life.” Q managed to crack a weak grin. The sheer terror and adrenaline of watching James fight two double ohs not meters away from where he sat helpless was winding down now, shock of it setting back a bit to calm him. He kissed James briefly on the mouth and was then ushered off by the stretcher-bearers. One doctor did in fact sequester Q for a bit longer by checking him over, and by that time M was straightening from his talk with the other also being moved double ohs.

“Go down to Bond, I’ll catch up in a bit.”

“You’re sure-“

“ _Go_ , Q.” M insisted gently, and beckoned over a spare nurse. “Go down with him.”

 

-00Q00-

 

“Did he tell you?” Q asked as M came through the doorway, looking as tired as Q felt. James pushed himself groggily onto his elbows, sedated slightly for the pain he insisted he didn’t feel when they re-set the jagged snap of his ankle. Combined with his flu the medicine had a rather strong effect.

M just nodded as he cast his gaze over his two staff members, Q stroking through James’ hair, unable to tear himself apart even whilst meeting his boss’ eyes.

“Yes. He did.”

Q’s eyes could only widen as M explained the situation. Apparently, it went like this:

008 had no notion of what had caused Q’s abrupt absence from branch, only that he had been abducted, tortured, and was too weak to return to work.

 _“Well. Its Q isn’t it? No way that geek’s gonna miss work unless that damn brat of his was cut out.”_ Exact words, from the recorded interrogation M carried out with the 00 agent in another room of medical. Hardly the man’s finest statement, but Q was less than surprised.

“Apparently, it coincided rather too succinctly to double oh five’s return to England for double oh eight’s liking.” M commented dryly.

The first 008 heard of the event was after being put through to R. Being a beta did not make the man safe from 008’s particular brand of unpleasantness. 005 had come in to break up the disaster waiting to happen.

005, who was, last 008 heard, invalid in bed and of active service. Being cagey with answers –due to the fact this wasn’t an MI6 related matter and the facts weren’t widely known… Also the man who happened to be the one 008 had replaced in China, to track down the attackers of.

_“Now here he was defending this upstart and fighting his battles. At least Q could always handle his own bollocks. ‘Sides, They’d had me out there a couple of weeks, and I didn’t find nothin’ like the stuff Dior did. How was I meant to know he hadn’t grubbed the information under the table for fancies? He was meant to be half on his death bed not up in Q-Branch!”_

The deductions that followed could largely be pinned to agent-typical paranoia, lack of information, a sense of being withheld said information, and a nasty combination of personality traits. What it boiled down to was that 005 was considered to be in cahoots with the Chinese, double agent. R, his equally double-agent lover, was vying to take Q-branch. 005 orchestrated an ‘accident’ or hired thugs. Made Q loose the baby (something that had apparently struck 008 deeper and with more fury than anyone could have anticipated). Hence why 005 was being so close to R&D, possibly faked his injuries. The ex-agent was in logistics, with him there and partner-in-crime running missions, there was no telling the damage that could be done.

Stuck far away from home and never having been one of the group, 008’s imagination had run wild. Every communication: monitored. Every mission: planned. Was he too close to the truth? Sent out on a death sentence already?

Then the unthinkable; Q’s return and what that would mean.

_“I tried to see if the omega knew anything I didn’t, but couldn’t push it, they could be listening. Kept it too close for me to tell his psychological state. If he’d lost the brat and come back in he’d be unstable, vulnerable, prime attack or mutiny position. Anything would be too easy. I wanted to warn someone, or check the details. But before that you were the ones taking my calls, M, with Tanner. Wouldn’t have listened, needed to find out on my own. Shouldn’t have tried to ask Q, warn him, bleeder wouldn’t have been in his right mind just back from something like that.”_

Isolated with knowledge, knowing how popular Louis was with the rest of Six, 008 became convinced further of the plot, mind extrapolating further coincidences and references to support his theory form innocent or innocuous fact.

_“Then I come back here to find Q back in his chair and all heavy with Bond’s pup and Of course 005 would know that would be the easiest way to usurp him. He’d failed before, but not now, and there he was leaning over the quartermaster with a hand round his neck. I could smell it, Q wasn’t happy, and I knew that this could be it. So, I did what I had to.”_

“You probably don’t want to hear the rest.” M finished off, terminating the conversation as a venomous stream of fowl language begun spewing over the line as the agent vividly described the fight in his gruesome fashion. James had gone very still beneath Q’s hand. As for himself, Q barely knew what to think, shocked out of his wits, though he knew he shouldn’t be. By any rights, insanity was by far one of the most likely ways for a double oh to go. That was what had happened with the original single ‘Oh’ agents back in the world wars. And 008 couldn’t even really be accused of that fully, given how often facts could be misread within their line of work. 

To hear the conversation happen though was something else. Especially to know how essential a part of that he had been.

“What will happen to him?” Q asked, voice emotionless and controlled even if not fully sharp, leaden with exhaustion as he was…

So much of him was counting his blessings that this hadn’t been the fate that befell his James, as it so easily could have been, after Vesper and during the Silva escapade.

M gave away nothing by expression. Neither did James. The three of them lingered in the room together and yet restricted themselves to this obvious not-conversation. 008’s sanity would be put under question, including his fitness as an agent, given how he’d let the theory carry on. Would he even be workable with? The man himself might hold grudges too, certainly against 005.

“Psych are going to give him the thrice over. His mind’s hardly gone but his value to us is in question. There’s any number of codes he could have relayed to me. But apparently they’re concerned of paranoid fits rather than a permanent state. Ironically, you probably kept him going the longest until you became a source of intensifying the problem. The only thing that had ever soundly counteracted and shattered his beliefs.”

There was no way Q could respond to that, unable to make eye contact entirely. James growled and squeezed Q’s hand.

“So that’s it?” The agent glowered, fury at the lives of him and his colleagues heavy in his eyes. “We just send him down to the basement and throw away the key?” M met the agent’s eyes no more sharply, though there was a hard edge lilting them.

“He informed me he wants to resign.” That surprised the pair of them. M’s eyes shadowed with something that resembled a most wretched kind of sympathy. “Double oh Eight has been our top agent for deep undercover missions since the inception of his career. It wont be easy, but if I can find a way to grant him release from that kind of servitude, then I will. From what I understand, the isolated missions are the grimmest asks of a task master.”

James’ eyes were stony with understanding. He’d experienced those missions himself, but it was true that 008 was renowned for it; a specialist. Q looked at M’s eyes and imagined he could see the haunted pain of the man’s own isolated incarceration in Ireland reflected in them.

Q may have not known James’ M as long, but he thought that, maybe, she had not been so quick to find sympathy. Or maybe she had just grown out of it by the time she reached office.

The old M was right, Mycroft was right; sentimentality, caring, in their line of work it was not an advantage.

Q desperately wished sometimes that it were.

 

-00Q00-

 

James was moved to a regular, outside hospital. The same one they frequented with Q. MI6 didn’t quite have the same levels of comfort. James had insisted, through his woozy coughing, that the place reminded him too much of missions gone wrong. Far from wanting to cause his mate more stress Q had organised the transfer for the very same day.

Now they sat in a private room, Q propping himself up in a chair beside his alpha’s bed and contenting himself with leaning his head on the man’s shoulder.

James seemed tense, it worried Q because he recognised the signs of his mate steeling himself by now. The man was sick though, and unable to stand without a cast for a couple of weeks, and the doctors only had him on a bed-cast for now. Keen to _keep_ him in bed, given that James’ equilibrium on presentation was hardly at its parade-best. The painkillers for his ankle didn’t help the head cold’s clarity. There was no way Q was going to let James wheedle his way out of bed this time. He’d even pre-organised some stuff to be dropped off from their house for James’ comfort, clothes and books and the like.

“You might as well spit it out now, so that I can enforce your bed stay sooner rather than later.” Q suggested mildly after a while, entirely without malice. James however took a steadying breath, turned to gently press Q back upright in his chair, eyes lingering on the omega’s belly.

“You can’t stay with me, Q,” he got no further than opening his mouth in protest before James continued, “it’s not a good place for you.” Bemused, Q smiled a little, settling back without worry into the chair.

“Don’t be silly, this is fine-“

“You _can’t_ stay here.” Q felt a little bit of dread tingle his spine when James met his eyes solemnly. “I want to order you not to.” Jaw going slack in incredulity, mingled horror, Q struggled for a moment to speak at the not-quite order.

“It’s a _hospital_ …” He tried, voice taking on a desperate edge of disbelief, hurt. “There’s no place safer!”

“No. Not at the moment. Not like this. You’re so big now, Q, you need comfort, and looking after, and I can’t do that for you right now.” James enforced, both desperate for Q’s understanding and bitter at his own impotence. Confined in a bed and sick. “I can’t support you, I can’t look after you, and you can’t look after me, not right now. I can’t stand you uncomfortable for me, and its too cold here for you, impersonal…” James struggled for a moment, unable to articulate his fears, just begging Q with his eyes to understand. “You’re too pregnant to be healthy here.” Q struggled for words himself for a moment, throat constricting, he couldn’t leave James here alone, not his James.

“I need you.”

“Please Q.” That shut Q right up. There was no denying that James was pleading with him, face anguished but convicted, sure, just terrified at hurting Q. It didn’t help the idea of leaving James alone and in a hospital. They should stick together. They just should.

The thought was croaked aloud, James shaking his head, reaching to place a hand on Q’s belly.

“It’s not just me, love. Rumbles needs more than a hospital room. Visit, god please, but you’re in no state to sleep here.”

“Well, what’s any better?” Q tried, hopelessly. “If you’re that worried I’m only going to be at home by myself anyway.” James shook his head again. Q tried not to think how the man was right, how already his back was sore from the wretched chair and the sterile scent was making him uncomfortable. His gnawing aches from the cold lingering just where he was trying to ignore them. The scent of James unwell and hurt too, but no scent of him would be infinitely worse. “And you can’t be home by yourself either with only one working leg… or stay here till you can walk-“

“Just for a week. Then Alec’s back from his mission, I can stay with him. You need support, not to be on your own. You’re still a bit sick yourself. I’ve made provisions for you.”

Part of Q rankled at being handed around like a prize cow, but he knew, knew James didn’t mean it like that. Was worried; too paranoid with life and the escapade that brought them here. Q tried not to cough, or cry, or beg. Breathing to calm down.

“Is it to be Mycroft then? Or Sherlock. God maybe Eve…” But James grimaced and shook his head, withdrawing his hand.

“No. They’re unsuitable.” Q blinked, curiosity and a bit of healthy dread peaked. After a moment he frowned at James’ tight expression, the man reached for his phone to text. Probably organising some kind of pick up time.

“Then who do I have the pleasure of imposing on without my consent?” Q commented archly, still a bit shocked, stunned, desperate to stay here with his mate, anywhere with his mate. “Why not my family?”

“They don’t have any experience with pregnancy.” James seemed to gain conviction and courage from his words, setting his phone down. Q’s mind latched onto the only logical pattern of thought.

“Oh James no…”

“M will know how to look after you, maybe even better than me, and Villiers has been through it himself. You’ll be safe and looked after.” James responded decisively, turning his attention back to Q.

“T-they have children!” Q spluttered, disbelieving. James shrugged, the bastard.

“One of us might as well use the time to learn about the little blighters.” Q couldn’t speak again.

He had no idea which made him feel worse, that James thought all this was necessary and had evidently managed to have a private conversation about it today with M behind his back. (By phone probably, no less! Q’s own medium…) Or the fact that it made perfect sense.

James wouldn’t be viably mobile for two weeks. He was overprotective even before Q became pregnant, and with all the mishaps the omega couldn’t fault him that. Entrusting Q’s safety to another was also something James had done selectively throughout the pregnancy, with Alec or Mycroft usually. Q was at risk should something happen on his own. He also couldn’t physically help James when he was like this.

Knowing his mate, Q knew the man would never choose to serve his recovery in M’s house himself, such was pride and the avoidance of awkward conversations.

Finally, awfully, embarrassingly… It just makes fucking sense. Q thought tiredly, breathing out long and hard, slumping into his chair. M and his mate were experienced, secure, and could probably be very informative. And Q already knew them well, they, or at least M, were trusted. Really, there weren’t safer hands than James’ own.

The knowledge of course did nothing to diminish Q’s turmoil of emotions at having to leave James and being ordered away.

M was still at the office, it being the middle of the day and still having a mess to clean up. Daniel, the man’s mate, gave a ring as he was pulling up to the hospital.

_“Don’t mind if I meet you in reception do you? I’ve got my youngest with me and hospitals upset him off his dinner.”_

“Not at all, thank you.” Q replied cordially, as if he couldn’t drive himself perfectly well, having to be _picked up_. But James would not have him alone for a second. Trusting one’s mate to another’s care –outside of pack- was a show of utter trust and desperation, and also a heavy responsibility. Both for the alpha that had to choose, and for the recipient. Q was surprised really, given all the stress of his incident with Mallory all those weeks ago, that James was willing to allow this, but then a lot had happened since then. M, for one, had showed them unwavering support since…

Q didn’t know quite how Mycroft would take it when he found out Q had been ‘placed’ in someone else’s care other than his own, but didn’t have the time nor energy to dither on it now.

With a sigh he stood and hovered by James for a moment. It was supremely awkward and tied with emotions.

He wasn’t sure which of them made the first move until their hands were entwined, eyes not quite meeting.

“Don’t get bored.” Q demanded after a deep breath, squeezing his James’ hand in a bit of final desperation, possession, protectiveness, some anger and misery probably leaking through in his scent. James squeezed back and kissed Q’s knuckles, looking horribly tired from all the day’s stress. Q just wanted to tuck him up and nest around him, force James to accept him staying as he stroked the man’s hair. The thought sent a pang of longing and misery through him. A tiny, uncomfortable noise escaped him. He couldn’t leave James could he? Not like this. He shouldn’t bloody have to. Even though he knew his back would feel broken by morning.

“Hey,” James caught his chin deftly; fingers moving to curl around his neck and drawing Q close for a near-chaste kiss. “We’re doing the right thing, you know we are.” Q didn’t respond save to close his eyes and near-whine the reply onto James’ lips briefly when the man brought him in again. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” Q took a breath and nodded, much more he couldn’t manage right now. He did pause to kiss James again before standing straight.

“Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow.”

“Bye, then…”

“See you then, Q.” Their hands squeezed and released. Q had to scoop up his bag and walk out the door without looking back, knowing how it would crumble his reserve.

With every step towards reception Q felt a little less sure, a bit more isolated. There was something wholly different about decidedly being apart from James than being separated by work. Blasty kicked and Q rubbed at the spot briefly, feeling some subtler movements as whatever stress Q was feeling transmitted. It was only a day, but it was a day in the unknown.

Daniel was waiting in the large entranceway, pointing out things through the glass to the finer-sucking one-year-old balanced on his hip. Q tried not to pause and stare at the effortless sight, hand drifting to and from his belly self-consciously for a moment. The other omega turned to him fairly swiftly though.

“Hello again. Sorry we had to meet again like this. But nice to see you all the same.” Well he seemed pleasant, charming with a smile that promised intelligent wit.

“Likewise.” Q assured, a bit closeted and contained in his reactions. Daniel surprised him out of it mildly when their handshake morphed into a brief cheek rub. They separated and Daniel jiggled the omega pup in his arms.

“Do you remember Q, sweetie?” The pup blinked up at Q, sniffled, but evidently couldn’t pick him out from a crowd at such a distance, mostly unknown as he was. Daniel looked at Q, smiling a bit in his toothy, amused way. “Go ahead, if you want to say hi.” Q wasn’t sure he wanted, but was at least spared the awkwardness of not knowing whether it was what the other omega wanted.

“Hello again.” Q addressed the infant lightly, and, gripped by curiosity, ducked to sniff at him again. The scent of pups was really something quite unique to him, not having much experience with them outside of crowds.  
The same dewy scent filled his memory as he snuffled gently at the babe’s neck, earning a giggle and grab at the hair that he ducked out of swiftly. If the child was upset by being denied hair-pulling access, he didn’t show it.

“Luv!” The pup called happily instead, proudly.

“No ‘mwah’ this time?” Q commented, eyebrow raised lightly as his eyes stayed on the curiosity mirrored across from him a moment longer. Daniel snickered a bit, poking the pup’s belly enough to earn another giggle.

“Oh no we grew out of that weeks ago! Didn’t we Stewie?” Daniel answered before turning to head out, looking at Q as they walked over to the other omega’s car. “These things tend to come and go in a flash.”

“Oh.” Q replied a bit, feeling dim. He hadn’t had any phases like that, that he remembered, save the life-long scrabble for brotherly affection.

This was going to be just awful, he knew it. And watching the other omega balance putting baby into car seat with easy familiarity did nothing to settle his nerves. None the less, he got into the car and let himself be taken away from James with only a single wistful look out the window.

 

-00Q00-

 

Daniel was a chatty fellow, as it turned out, full of slightly malicious parenting glee and constantly keeping conversation with both Q and the tiny creature in the back. Said pup was as intriguing as he was terrifying to Q, his gaze drawing back there to see it happily romping a pair of lion toys around the car seat.

“This one’s-“

“Stewart.” Daniel supplied easily, with a light, proud and love felt affectation. The babe looked up at the words.

They pulled up to a rather gorgeous and large Victorian-esque house that easily put anything other than Q’s family home to shame.

“Mathew and Beth won’t be back till four thirty, school day. And Gareth wont be back till god knows when. So you’ve got a few hours to settle in before the natives descend and the feeding frenzy occurs.” Daniel turned to him with another including yet mildly malign grin that did nothing to help Q’s nerves. “Some stuff was picked up from your house.”

 _Christ, of course. Dinner with the Mallory’s…_ The thought alone was disturbing enough so that when he was shown around the extensive house and to his room Q was ready to plead a return of the nausea just for some breathing room.

Daniel threw him a brief, concerned scan though.

Do you need anything else? The bathroom’s en-suite and there should be a water glass in there, but I can always get you some flu medicine if you need it.” Of course, he probably smelt a bit unwell, and not just because of James’ lingering scent. It had been a hell of a day too. Q was sure the instant bombshells stopped being thrown at him he’d crash faster than Alec’s car on that mission to Kentucky.

“No, I’ll be alright. And thank you, you’re being immensely generous sharing your home.” Q said, gratefully. Daniel waved him off with another, gentler smile and came over to place a hand near Q’s belly.

“May I?” He had little choice but to nod, seeing as how the man had been so generous, and still had the impressionable pup in his arms. Daniel rubbed in a way that showed comfortable familiarity, which was different to the normal reverent touches. “How far along are you now? Six months?”

“And a half, twenty eight weeks a few days ago.” Q corrected automatically, hearing numbers. Daniel offered him another, much more knowing smile and drew away.

“Settle in a bit, greet the monsters, eat something and get an early night. There’s no sense getting sick. Besides, it’ll be nice to have anther omega around for a change, even the odds at dinner time.” Q nodded a bit, mutely, but managed a smile since Daniel’s looked so happily conspiratorial. “I’d better go get this monster his bottle, come down whenever you’re ready.”

With that, and a parting grin and wave from sticky little fingers, Whirlwind Daniel left the room.

Q stood, surrounded by unfamiliarity, and wondered just how on earth he was meant to cope with this.

“We’ll get through this. Somehow, we will.” Blasty rumbled against him in a way he hadn’t for Daniel earlier. Even though it was most likely coincidence, Q felt a bit better all the same. Managing a smile, the omega straightened to begin unpacking his bag, feeling the day’s stress catch up with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your patience, and support! Christmas is just one of those times, but I will endeavour to not do this...again. 'xD
> 
> In more exciting news than my slow-update ability... *drum roll* this story now has fan art!!! COULD NOT be happier x3 The very lovely Vodka112 drew a gorgeously sweet pic for one of the Holmes Extra stories, and can be found here: http://vodka112.tumblr.com/post/66321629468/very-much-wanted-young-holmes-extras-1  
> Seriously go check it out there's cake!
> 
> Right! I'll get on the case of replying to your wondrous comments once I've got about half the next chapter written. See you then gorgeouses! ;D


	37. H0: Into the Lion's den; H1: Into the Monkey house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well I apparently shouldn't make promises xD But hey all caught up now! Sorry about that everyone ';D
> 
> Also my apologies for any child syntax being wrong. I tried, but inaccuracies are bound to occur, feel free to suggest/critique. As it is, I haven't been eight for years, and six for even longer. No doubt reality has changed since then…
> 
> Without further rambling, enjoy!

The younger members of the Mallory clan arrived as expected under security driver and scampered into their home with a cacophony of noise.

“Dada! DADA! _Smathew_ says Santa Claws isn’t real!” It was only years of steeling himself against surprises that prevented Q from dropping his mug. The sudden entrance of a sandy-haired six-year old, pouting imperiously and scruffy as though she’d gone through a hedge backwards would otherwise have proved too much for him. The young alpha was followed not moments later by her older eight-year-old brother, hair a shade lighter and looking immensely proud of himself.

Daniel sighed, lowering Stewart gently to the floor where he waved the sauce-covered cooking spoon at his siblings with delight.

“Now what have I told you about coming home?”

“But Dada-“

“Manners first, Bethany May Mallory.” Daniel reminded, the pup pouted afresh, but succumbed.

“Hello Dada.”

“Hello sweetie, now, what’s this about Santa?”

“Smathew-“

“Don’t call your brother that.” The older child giggled as Beth growled.

“ _Smathew_ says Santa Claus is just Papa in a suit with a cushion!” She insisted, little fists clenched in righteous indignation at the suggestion the bringer of presents wasn’t real down to the last bell.

“Hello Dada!”

“Hello Mathew, darling.” Daniel sighed with a smile, Mathew grinned precociously.

Q, hitherto unseen due to little bodies and a high table, darted out in panic when he saw little Stewart topple over onto his cushy backside and smack himself in the face with the spoon. The omega had removed the spoon and put hands on the pup’s shoulders before realising he had no idea what he was doing… Putting hands on shoulders was how he caught _James’_ attention, not the focus of babies.

There was silence in the room however, mostly due to the surprised children shocked out of arguing and crying.

“Dada who’s that with Stewie!” Mathew demanded, pointing, Beth bristled beside him and Q was nearly struck dumb at the protectiveness in both alpha children as they saw an unknown person loitering around their omega brother. With a pang he missed his brothers. Daniel diffused the moment easily with a laugh and rescuing the easily relinquished, sauce-smeared babe from Q’s awkward hands.

“Mathew, Beth, this is-“

“Maurice, pleasure to meet you both.” Q finished swiftly, standing to go over and crouch to offer hand shakes to the children. He had no idea the security risk they’d pose by letting two pups run around saying ‘Q’ was staying with them… Daniel realised his quick save and continued.

“He’s staying with us for a couple of weeks.”

“He’s huge! Like you were Dada.” Mathew accused. Beth pushed him out the way and stuck a hand out.

“I’m Beth and I’m six and I’m Papa’s favourite.” Q shook the small hand delicately before Mathew barged his way in, not to be outdone.

“No _I’m_ Papa’s favourite! And I’m Mathew Mallory And I’m the head alpha too, and I think fat omegas are really pretty.”

It was a struggle. It was a very, very hard struggle, but miraculously Q managed to not laugh at the sweet, unknowing, chivalrous comment. Daniel’s chocked sniggered coughs behind him were hardly helping.

“I um, well, thank you, Mathew, that’s very sweet of you to say-“

“Can I touch your stomach?” Beth butted in again. “ _I_ know you’re not fat just pr-pre…”

“He’s _pregnant_ Beth. And He’s mine, I saw him first!”

“Did not!”

“Did too!”

“Munchkins calm. Let poor Maurice have some space.” Q breathed out a sigh of relief at being rescued from the rather assertive claiming tendencies of young alphas. He’d heard about it, of course, but had no idea that M’s offspring would be quite so keen to claim the new interloper in their house. Probably competition related. Daniel chivvied the pair off to change and wash for dinner, leaving Stewart in his high chair with Q on guard.

Standing with no small amount of struggle, and feeling a bit lightheaded, Q sat down next to Stewart, who suddenly seemed a lot more manageable for all his vulnerability, and braved poking the pup’s hand.

Instantly his fingers were clenched and one of the toy lions plopped into it. Wondering what on earth he had gotten into for the next two weeks, Q pranced the lion about the tray a bit and onto the pup’s head, earning a giggle.

“You’re very lucky, remember that, you’ve got some siblings there who are really looking out for you.” Stewart tried to eat the lion. “Or we could eat stuffed toys instead of sharing moments of wisdom, excellent. Not to worry, I don’t like omegas telling me what to do either, or anyone really, but lets keep that between ourselves shall we. Oh look, made in Britain, who said patriotism is dead?” Q reflected after examining the label on the toy. Stewart cooed a bit and made a few ‘Nuluh’ and ‘Imbuh’ noises of demand at points when he wanted to trade lions.

Daniel returned with the monsters careering into the TV room, and plucked up Stewart to go spend some family time together till the food was cooked.

“You’re welcome to join, probably best to get to know the munchkins before seeing their table manners.” Q failed to hide his grimace, which had Daniel laughing on his way out.

“Nuluh!” Stewart called, reaching arms past his mother’s shoulders in demand and confusion at Q. At first he looked around for the lions before realising that the pup meant him. Daniel chortled again, only looking a bit weary from bath-time.

“I think that’s an order.” The man commented with amusement, clearly entertained with watching his progeny play with their new ‘toy’. Q stood and followed with only some difficulty and fatigue, earning a happy shriek.

The children were attempting to choose a film to watch as Daniel sat down too. Q stayed in a seat to the side, a very comfy seat, and found himself at the centre of another small, confused fight after The Lion King had been selected. Apparently, that was Stewie’s favourite.

“ _I_ want to sit with Stewie and Maurice!”

“No _I_ want to sit with Stewie and Maurice!”

“Mathew you sit with Stewie now and Maurice at dinner, Beth you sit with Maurice now and Stewie at dinner.” There was a little more grumping but after the opening song started both children had accepted their places.

Q was a little worried that Beth’s vigorous jumping in time with the music and vivacious cheering of her favourite moments might come into contact with his stomach. But other than enforcing him to join in with the songs and draping over his belly in a way that might have had Bond growling in amused dominance and plucking the young interloper off, she was a perfect lady. Mathew was also bouncing away with a giggling Stewie and singing, demanding their Dada joined in whenever he returned from a moment cooking in the kitchen.

 

-00Q00-

 

Q was just starting to get uncomfortable and exhausted when M managed to come home, timing it miraculously to catch the tail end of the film. Dinner had been an experience that Q wasn’t sure he wanted to repeat. Feeling he had to help Daniel even though he was assured he didn’t have to.

Mathew had demanded his turn sitting next to the new and exciting smelling guest, and had even attempted to gift Q with food, which set Beth growling and trying to offer some herself before Daniel ordered them to eat peacefully. There was a discussion of school days, homework, the other kids, the Santa Claws issue, and an incomprehensible sibling conversation about peas. Stewart was made a fuss of, and Q was plied with questions. ‘Why are you here’ ‘are you sick’ ‘where’s your mate’ ‘how many pups are you having’ ‘can you stay in my room’ ‘are you going to help Dada feed Stewie’ ‘are you going to live with us’ ‘why aren’t you with your mate’…

It was exhausting, and Q felt utterly, completely, in over his head. Daniel seemed to sense it, and was controlling the conversation wherever possible, offering Q outs that the children made difficult to take. In the end, he was just resigned to stay and watch the rest of the film with them, and play with Stewie a bit when the other two got bored of his endless prancing-lion game and Daniel was cleaning up after dinner.

He was actually a bit surprised to see that there wasn’t a host of staff at their beck and call. But then again, Daniel did seem quite house and home proud.

M’s return was greeted by excited shouts and news as the kids scurried off to the door. Daniel hefted Stewie up from the floor with a smile at Q as he went out to greet his mate.

The silence was like a slice of relief. Q reached for the chair behind him and pushed himself up onto it and off the floor. The movement left his head spinning and the omega leaned back to take a moment’s breather before going the rest of the way upright.

 

-00Q00-

 

“Q,”

“Maybe we should let him sleep, he hasn’t looked well since I picked him up.”

“You know as well as I do he’ll regret sleeping here in the morning. Q, come on quartermaster.” Against his will, really, Q found his eyes flickering open, and a sniff helped wake him up more, the unfamiliar smells surprising.

“I’ll turn the bed down.” Q blinked up at M, woken more fully by the odd scent of another omega leaving the room, and recalled where he was with a flush of embarrassment.

“Oh, damn, sorry M-“

“Not to worry.” M smiled at him, and patted Q on the arm. “Come on, the bumpkins are asleep. Well done, by the way, they love you.” Q huffed out a laugh, still tinged pink, and pushed his aching body up off the chair only to stagger and be caught by M, head swimming.

“Alright, deep breaths.”

“Christ, sorry, I’m not,” Q tried to steady himself only to flail a bit more and end up leaning more heavily on the not-quite stable enough form of M.

“Relax quartermaster, you’ve had a rough day. Pet do you think you could-?” M didn’t need to finish as Daniel appeared on Q’s other side and they supported him towards the stairs. It was a long way up, but by the time they reached his room Q had re-found his equilibrium, thanking the two embarrassedly and bidding them good night as swiftly as possible. He hashed out a quick text to James saying everything was fine, and fell into bed trying not to whine for his alpha.

Coughing a bit, and feeling wretched, Q pulled up the covers and cradled belly and Blasty to feel a little bit more at-home.

 

-00Q00-

 

Apparently all colds would catch up with you some time, and Q had never had the best immune system in the world. That weekend he spent in the spare bedroom of M’s house, often unable to do more than stagger to the toilet and text James. At least they were both miserable. Miserable enough that Q didn’t care he’d been sent away, as long as they could croak and cough down the phone to each other in between sleeps.

“Q? Can I come in?” Glancing around, Q ascertained fairly swiftly that this wasn’t a state he really wanted M seeing him in.

“Uhm, one second-“ Q requested, forcing himself up and attempting to shove the bed back in order and open the windows at the same time. Of course this was the moment his balance left him with a squawk to fall onto his arse.

“Q?” It was all he could do not to flush with embarrassment and attempt to maintain a cool composure when M came in looking worried.

“Uh, overstretched myself, really, you shouldn’t worry-“ His attempt to stand failed entirely and then M was helping him back to bed.

“Daniel wants to know if you want any soup.” Guilt was another familiar emotion. Q settled himself into the bed and brushed his hair back.

“I do apologise for all the trouble M-“

“I appreciate that Q, but I’d rather you rested than worried.” He glanced up at the slightly stern voice of his boss.

“Wha-“

“I gave Bond my word, willingly, that we would be only too happy to have you here, even if that means you’re in bed.” Q fidgeted a bit, feeling no more put together than when Mallory had caught him and Tanner laying a fake trail for Silva.

“But it’s a weekend, you don’t get many off, you should be with your children not me.” This time M smiled.

“It takes two minutes to fetch some soup, and besides, they got bored of playing with me by ten this morning, it’ll be hours before the two of them tear themselves away from whatever world they’ve created.”

Q still felt a little bit guilty, but could see the man wasn’t lying. That or he was just very good. Regardless, Q accepted the offer of soup with hopefully more grace, and text James to say that Mallory was plying him with calories.

_“Good, nice and plump.”_ James called him back to say, clearly bored in the hospital.

“Clearly the drugs have gone to your head.” Q replied mildly, settling in for comfort and feeling some sharp little kicks that made him wince. “Blasty says hi.”

_“I like you plump. Put the phone on your belly.”_ Long since used to James’ random requests Q did, hearing the muffled greeting as their pup swirled around.

“They liked that.” Q informed when he retrieved the phone. “Sometimes I worry if you’ll still love me when I’m thin again.”

_“Don’t worry about that, you svelte thing you.”_ Q tried not to blush… it was a valiant effort.

“So I don’t need to keep working on that pound-packing diet sheet I made on excel?”

_“Don’t you dare.”_ James laughed, coughed, and rang off to get the nurses to bring him water.

 

-00Q00-

 

The next week revealed some truly terrifying and enlightening things. Mornings were honest–to-god awful when they included corralling children. They were also better at waking him up. Daniel ruled his children with an iron fist covered in a woollen mitten. M cooked a surprisingly good roast dinner. Perhaps the most amazing thing was that the children seemed to like Q without any attempt on his part.

The three of the adults all helped prepare the children for school on Tuesday, given that M and Q were off to work and Daniel wouldn’t let a single thing pass unsupervised lest disaster struck. Q very much hoped that was the one habit he didn’t catch whilst he was here. No doubt it would drive Bond mad to have Q breathing down his neck every minute of the day. It seemed to suit M well enough, who didn’t seem to incur any of his mate’s ire as long as he helped gather the children effectively.

“I want Maurice, I want Maurice!” Beth chanted loudly with a grin as she waved her arms to be noticed amidst the kafuffle of Mallory’s. Q went over, still unsure as to why he had been blessed with being favoured. Perhaps because he was new, or an omega, or giving off hormones… Whatever the cause, he wasn’t complaining. Going over he, with some difficulty, scooped up the six year old and balanced her on his hip. Truth be told it did his back in whilst pregnant, but the female alpha seemed to love curling her leg around his belly and babbling into his ear.

“Samantha’s having a party this week!” She announced proudly, as if it were her party, not her friend’s.

“Oh is she? How charming.” Beth nodded gleefully.

“I’m invited.”

“That’s nice.”

“I want you to plait my hair.” Still the illogical jumps in conversation took some time getting used to.

“For the party?” He clarified. Beth looked at him like he was a dim but well loved family pet. Well, that showed him where he was on the food chain.

“So I can go to the shop with Emily.” She explained. Q half expected the word ‘duh’ to be tacked on the end.

“Of course that’s why.” He muttered.

“And I need a new dress.”

“For the shops?”

“No for the party stupid!” Q halted his forward march to the door and raised an eyebrow at the pup before bending to put her back on the floor.

“That was hardly necessary.” He informed, straightening, turning away. Grief, the children really were like double oh’s. His point was proved not seconds later when the limpet formally known as Beth attached to his leg and looked up at him with still shocked but pleading eyes.

“Maurice isn’t stupid! I’m sorry.” At least she learnt faster than some of his agents. That trick had taken Alec a good few months to pick up on. With a sigh he ruffled her curly-haired head awkwardly.

“Apology accepted, come on, your Dada will be wondering what’s keeping you.” Beth happily settled back into his arms –Q’s back not so happy with the arrangement- and let herself and lunchbox be transported to the car out front. Mathew was being buckled in by M as Daniel settled Stewart into his car seat.

“Here’s the last of them.” Q announced as he deposited Beth into the car to poke and bait her big brother. The boy played aloof for all of half a minute before giving into the taunts. M cast a grateful look over at Q whilst Daniel settled the dispute in the back sharply.

“What did I say about fighting in the car?” There were two guilty looks cast at him. “I’m waiting…” sullenly, evasively, the two alphas recited what seemed to be a well-rehearsed speech.

“Little birds in the nest must agree.”

“Good, and what happens if they don’t?”

“No ice cream on Wednesday.” Came the miserable response

“Good. Now, what times tables do we want to listen to on the way to school?”

With the discussion settled and a times-table song playing –Stewart seemed to enjoy it particularly- Daniel escaped the car with a smile to kiss M goodbye and smile at Q before settling back in with the monsters.

“Thank you for your help there, Q. If I’d known I would have increased your pay cheque.” It had become something of a gag between them, a way of pushing any and all awkwardness aside.

“If I’d known I would have put it on my CV.” Q responded with a smile.

He was glad to be going into work, it was the only normality he had at the moment. Monday he’d wanted to go see James only to be kept away by the disaster that was Mathew’s nosebleed. Apparently only ‘Maurice and ice cream’ would make it better…

Q would have to smack Bond for the way the man had laughed down the phone when he’d flatly reported the hold-up and apologised later that night.

He hadn’t managed to visit James once. It hurt quite a lot, but between taking on normal hours again at work and the madness of the Mallory’s there had been little time to spare. Things were particularly busy in-branch due to Q having to prepare everything for his upcoming maternity leave. All in all, it was probably a very good idea he hadn’t been allowed to take care of James as well, though he missed the man viscerally regardless.

Today he had a check up with Dr. Darcy and his midwife, and it wasn’t even James taking him to it but rather M’s mate. Get on with Daniel though he did, it wasn’t quite right.

 

-00Q00-

 

“Everything is excellent, Mr. Black. Good all round, and your weight is right on track as well. Looks like you’ve got a very healthy pup in there.” Q smiled at the news as Darcy beamed. The royal midwife went on to say much the same with her check up, with one added piece of advice.

“Have you thought about or booked a birthing class yet? Now’s a great time to get started so you aren’t running around last minute.”

“Uh, no, I-“

“Not to worry, here are some pamphlets.” Flooded with another set of reading material, Q left in a bemused state to find Daniel and Stewart waiting patiently, the young pup playing with another small one in the child area.

“How’d it go, glowing reports?”

“Mm, nearly, apparently I’m late for class.” Q commented, leafing through the pamphlets.

“Let’s have a look.” The other omega came to his shoulder and Q offered him a few of the papers. “Ah birth classes, you should have said, I thought you’d already booked them. Not to worry, they can be quite fun really. And you can do them with your mate.”

Q did like Daniel, more than he’d thought he would, the man was sharp and sarcastic and witty, and they had a lot in common. Plus he didn’t make Q feel like an utter fool somehow when they talked baby, always something of a bonus for a man who liked to feel in control.

“We can sort it out today probably, there’s some time before the kids finish school.”

Without much fuss Daniel managed to help narrow down the choices of pregnancy classes until Q could choose just one. One class a week for four weeks was manageable, starting next Thursday, and he was encouraged to bring James with him by the lady over the phone.

“Its not a bad idea to have him come along.” Daniel added afterwards. “Gareth always came to mine.” There was a certain edge to the words that suggested M hadn’t had an awful lot of choice in the matter. He didn’t comment on that, of course.

“Maybe I should have booked it for later…” Q contemplated, glancing over the email detailing the start of his course. “James wont be able to make it next week, not with his ankle.” Daniel watched him quietly whilst Q pretended not to notice. It was fairly obvious to anyone in the household that Q was missing his mate badly, but at least tonight he’d get to see him, finally.

“Want me to drive you over there?” Daniel asked, ever perceptive. Q shook his head.

“No, wanted to go pick some stuff up from our house anyway. Thank you though.” There was an awkward pause from the other omega, jiggling his pup over to the other shoulder in debate.

“Q, we’re not meant to let you go anywhere alone. I’m under orders, so is Gareth for that matter.” Q sighed, of course, James’ rules. He wouldn’t ask these two to break them and risk the double oh’s ire.

“Right, in that case…”

“We can go to your house, its no trouble, or later.”

“Whenever’s easiest.” He replied easily, not wanting to disturb the Mallory household more than he already was. Besides, the only thing he really wanted from the house was Blasty’s growth chart, sadly forgotten and neglected for the last few days. But he had his laptop, he could mock one up. Might not be as satisfying, but Q was nothing if not resourceful.

Which turned out to be a very good thing, when the two eldest Mallory children came home with Beth in tears and a tantrum because Jimmy Green had ‘stolen’ her best beta Charlie Harrier when they were playing pack at school… The fallout turned out to be greater than Q would have expected. He was also absolutely no help at all.

Q hadn’t had friends when he was a pup.

He desperately hoped that James had. Otherwise, the two of them stood no chance.

 

-00Q00-

 

“Ow! Little blighter…” Q hadn’t meant to exclaim so loudly, but Blasty didn’t half catch him unaware sometimes. A kick to the guts was a nice little reminder of just whose pup he was carrying. Trust 007’s baby to have such well developed and honed reflexes whilst in the womb… Sometimes Q didn’t half wonder if they’d created some sort of monster hybrid between the two of them.

_That’s before counting the possibility of handing down my anxiety and James’ paranoia_ … Q couldn’t help thinking, rubbing his belly and wincing sharply when the 29-week old, 40 cm monster inside decided to start another particularly violent samba. Between worrying that his pup was responding aggressively to the lack of James and panicking vaguely about containing something nearly half a meter in his stomach it was a wonder he had the time to feel pain.

“What’s wrong Maurice?” Mathew piped up and bounded over, all authority and business. The little alpha really was half adorable with his insistence on ‘taking care’ of ‘his omega’.

“Nothing, just the interloper getting active again.” Daniel snorted with feeling whilst his daughter squealed and jumped up to go place small hands on Q’s belly.

“You’re just like those whales on the TV last night!” She insisted excitedly. Beth adored her animal programs, Mathew seemed to change his mind each day on what he liked or didn’t, apart from the certainty that he liked his Dada’s story time and his Papa’s play time more than anything else in the world. Apart from maybe tuna fish, which was evidently his food of the month.

“Maurice is nothing like those whales Beth!”

“He is to!”

“He is not!”

“Munchkins calm.” Daniel ordered, in-control as ever, and came to peel their tiny hands off Q’s moving belly. It was very strange; to see his stomach wobbling after particularly strong kicks, and occasionally there was even a jab out. He wished James could feel and see it, but hopefully tonight, after M came home to watch the kids… if the man wasn’t too late.

“Lets give Maurice some room, come on, go play next door.” After chivvying out the protesting children, and leaving them in charge of Stewie temporarily, Daniel returned looking sympathetic as Q winced and rubbed over a painful spot again.

“Quite the kicker isn’t he?” Q laughed a bit grittily.

“Takes after his or her father.” The other omega looked like he was about to make some teasing or sarcastic snipe at Bond for a moment until another pained and surprised gasp from Q had him frowning instead.

“Here, come upstairs and try stretching out.” Q accepted the suggestion because nothing he had tried on his own had helped. It was amazing just how powerful a pup could be.

“Why can’t you be gentle anymore? This used to be so sweet.”

“Good lord don’t I know. Gareth could never understand that the munchkins actually managed to inflict pain.” Q shuddered at the thought of James laughing at him right now so much that his next words were growled.

“Well James bloody well better. The little one’s probably got his damn muscles after all.” He couldn’t see James being nonchalant about anything that caused him pain, but right now he wasn’t feeling too rational. Screw it, he was pregnant and James wasn’t here, he could be as hormonal as he wanted…

And to be fair, it was indefinitely worse because James wasn’t here.

“Oh be prepared for many ‘what a fighter’ and ‘little tiger’ comments before the man finally realises to watch his tongue.” Q had had his suspicions for a while, but he rather suspected that pregnancy had not been an easy time for the Mallorys. And occasionally he could see the remnants of dents in the wall from thrown objects. And M didn’t seem like he was much of a thrower.

Not that it seemed to have affected their relationship too badly; there was a natural respect and ease that the two had around each other. The kind of nearly wordless communication at points of two who had been through a lot of life together and knew how the other worked. Sometimes, they were downright impressive to watch.

Still, he couldn’t see James making such remarks and not at the same time be trying to take the pain away. It just wasn’t the man’s style. And if Q were being honest, James’ protective worrying had made him feel rather safe from early on in their relationship. Otherwise things might not have moved on so swiftly. But the tendency mixed with their respect for each other had been enticing.

Damn, he missed James.

Blasty gave another few violent convolutions and Q fell onto the bed with a groan. It was just too easy to be relaxed around Daniel when the man was so conspiratorial.

“Alright, lets try this, lie back-“

“And think of England?” Q quipped with a smile, Daniel grinned.

“I was going to say and take a deep breath but whatever floats your boat.”

Q laughed through the kicks whilst Daniel set up a rubbing massage on his stomach and lower back. Q tensed a bit before the ministrations got the better of him with a groan. Daniel might be his new best friend.

 

-00Q00-

 

James was going stir crazy. Had been all week really. He had now managed to finish his recounting of the Casino Royale, had read far too many different newspapers, knew an absurd amount about the various hospital staff, and grown momentarily besotted with the exploits of the cast of ‘Made in Putney’. It had to stop. It just did.

…Except Francesca was moving in on Emily’s fiancé Luke and- _No_. No. No.

Alec would take the piss out of him for years if he found out. Which he wouldn’t, as long as he could swear Q to secrecy. The laughter down the phone on Wednesday evening had been nearly too much to bear. Even if Q was very sweet about it, in his own teasing manner.

They hadn’t managed to meet until Saturday. A whole damn week stuck in a bed without mate or escape. James had nearly pounced on Q with a growl the instant the omega got through the door, only held back by the knowledge that it would end in disaster for them both.

He did however growl anyway and hold out his arms in demand that Q fell into easily with a near run and barely hidden moan of relief.

Having his omega launch awkwardly into his arms and flop heavily on top of him in the bed took a little manoeuvring, but James was far from complaining. In fact it was hard to keep from growling for ten minutes whilst they kissed and broke apart to bite at necks and rub scent on each other. Q barely smelt of him at all.

“You smell of children, and pup.” James admonished slightly, loathe to have missed Q starting to smell quite so beautifully pregnant. One hand fell to curve around Q’s belly and the quartermaster nearly writhed, nuzzling into James’ neck and jaw as though they’d been apart years.

“You smell of clean.” Q parried back, nipping at James’ throat before kissing the spot, sucking. That sent James into a full-scale assault on Q’s own neck until they were both panting and a lot calmer.

Breathing was slightly easier now that Q smelt a bit more like him and a bit less like M. Also it helped that his pregnant omega had slipped off James’ chest, leaving only their legs tangled and upper bodies pressed close together. Not that he would ever dare say Q’s weight now made it hard for him to breath. The reception to such a comment wouldn’t be even remotely positive.

“How have you been?” Q asked, despite their near constant communication.

“Bearing up.” James shifted his cast ankle under the blankets a bit. “Despite the nurses’ best attempts to drain me of blood.”

“I’m sure they were hardly that bad.”

“They were bad enough. One of them spilt water on me just to get me out of my shirt.” Q smiled toothily and leaned down against James’ shoulder.

“You poor soldier, shall I stay here to protect you from their lecherous advances?”

“Mmm I think you’d better had. Bloody voracious these women.” Q laughed softly, and it was music to James’ ears. He settled arms around Q and pulled him a bit closer comfortably, their bodies melding with familiar practice in a way that was only too satisfying.

“So, tell me about the Mallorys.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not a lot of James in this chapter, that was just the way it wanted to be written I'm afraid, and this could be called 'the chapter where 00Q miss each other repeatedly' but it wouldn't have been a great title ;D
> 
> Fun-fact-wise the phrase 'little birds int he nest' is one from deep within childhood, and somewhat seemed to run in the family, so I couldn't resist it for the Mallory munchkin/bumpkins.  
> There was also surprisingly little M in this chapter, but he's at least had time in the spotlight before.
> 
> Anyway hope you all enjoyed the Mallory brats and thank you thank you for your support and patience, it means a lot! See you next time!


	38. H0: Nothing to worry about; H1: Keep Calm and Make Phone Calls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I blame Christmas for lateness of everything, you guys know how it goes this time of year!  
> Anyway sorry for delay and hope you enjoy!  
> (The italicising nearly ended me, its 1:30 am on xmas eve, visiting family tomorrow via early drive, psht though: It's Christmas, who needs to be responsible? ;D)

To say Alex was less than impressed with James’ new injury was an understatement.

_“You broke your ankle? In a fight with Five and Eight? I don’t know whether to ask to see the other guys or pity your reputation.”_

“Shut up. Are you going to let me stay over or what?”

_“Or what! This is your mess mate, I’m only back for three days and I plan to spend them all with something decidedly more attractive and omega than you.”_ James shifted uncomfortably in dual annoyance. Alec was being a pest and he had an itch under the cast on his foot.

“Stay away from my Q.” Alec barked a delighted and rough laugh.

_“Go see Q, when you left him at M’s? No thanks, I’m not going to be opening up that can of worms!”_ Alec sounded entirely too gleeful.

“Fine, you can piss off then.” James grumbled. Alec sobered slightly.

_“Look, you can’t come over James, I’m not kidding. France was a mess, always is, and I didn’t come back clean. I’m going to be in talks more than out and that’s without considering the baggage…”_

_Damn_. Alec had been running a protection mission. Evidently it had taken him back to England for a few days before he and the mark shipped out wherever they needed to get to. Sometimes, it was only too easy to forget that Alec and he didn’t lead the same life anymore. They’d been in the same business together for too long to not feel joined at the hip, first Navy, then MI6.

Whilst lying in a hospital bed, bitterness was within an easy grasp for the ex agent.

“Alright, its only another week, at least the food’s better than at the day job.” Alec chuckled a little, not that humorously.

_“You know if I could-“_

“I know, Alec.” And he did. They were thick as thieves, especially since sometimes they were thieves. If Alec couldn’t help James out, it was only because he had no other choice. “Its fine, really. Boring, but fine.” This time Alec’s laugh was more genuine, if somewhat sad to keen ears.

_“I hear that. And hey, you did the right thing, with Q. The hospital would have knackered him.”_ It was surprisingly welcome to hear those words from possibly the only person whose practical experience James valued as much as his own.

“As long as I don’t loose him to M’s mate, they seem bloody smitten with each other from the way Q talks…” It was hard not to grump about that fact, but there it was. Never had James kept his… _tense_ relationship with Villiers a secret, and now that the man was getting to touch up Q’s belly and offer massages and generally become his new best friend… do James’ job… well. Some things just rubbed the wrong way when he could do so little to reclaim his mate.

Q even _smelt_ of the damn man more than James these days. Not to mention M, which was weird and unpleasant. It just didn’t sit right.

_“Ah that’s just omegas, they get on too well. Why do you think Q branch is so bloody notorious? Omegas could take over the world if they fancied with all their cooperative natures.”_

James shuddered at the thought of a Q branch-run world. But there was no denying the truth to Alec’s words; he could see the evidence whenever he talked to Q. The two omegas just got each other.

If it hadn’t been his own bloody plan he might have entertained feeling miffed.

_“Seriously, James, you’ll be fine. Just don’t get thrown out of hospital alright?”_

“I’m not making promises we both know I can’t keep.” Alec’s laugh was full and wicked and had James grinning.

_“That’a boy. I’ll be in touch.”_

James felt mildly better after they rang off, in that it was always good to talk to Alec. The thought of another week in hospital though filled him with dread. He’d largely muscled through the first week for Q. And to prove the point that he would be fine, that Q needn’t worry… His strength was mostly kept up by the idea of salvation at the end, a good week with no one but Alec and maybe occasionally Q for company.

Now that was dashed, and all he had left was this room and Q’s erratic Mallory-life schedule.

_It’s only a bloody week_. James chastised himself. It didn’t help much though, to be honest.

 

-00Q00-

 

Q wouldn’t have believed it if he’d been shown a video recording, but nonetheless it was happening around him. He was in a nest with M’s mate and son.

Weirdly, it didn’t feel weird… Well, a bit, but hardly uncomfortably.

“Here, you put him down, I’ll get the cover.” Q took the pup, getting more used by the day to hefting the wriggling weight around. Stewie cooed loudly.

“Nuluh!”

“Yes yes, Nuluh Nuluh.” It hadn’t taken long for Q to accept that he was apparently going to be named after one of the characters in the lion king rather than called Maurice. Of course, Stuart was also incapable of pronouncing ‘Nala’ correctly… Who was incidentally a _female_ lion… He wondered if James would be called ‘Uncle Imba” if the two were ever to meet, or if Stewie just thought Q to be some bizarre extension of M’s pack. A second mate, perhaps…

The thought was slightly distressing. Stuart laughed and begun patting at Q’s cheeks. A game that took minutes to get old, usually.

“Alright cub, down you go.” Stuart was clad in his very softest sleep suit, and apparently loved nesting time like nothing else.

“Dada, Dada!” Stuart called as Daniel ducked back into their cocoon nest. It was truly a feat of engineering.

“Here I am sweetheart. All ready for nest time?” Stuart got supremely excited and managed to rocket to his feet, flailing chubby arms madly.

“Mee Meeee! Me whoosh uh!” Language was a funny thing with pups involved. Q smiled in amusement at the nearly dancing with excitement young omega, and met Daniel’s amused and doting and fondly exasperated gaze. They grinned at each other, secretly each taking a corner of the blanket.

“You want to do it Stewie? You sure?” Daniel teased with a smile. Stuart mewled and grabbed at the cover.

“Yes! Yes Dada yes Nuluh, me!” Q pulled an impressed face.

“Well, alright then big cub. Your nest your way.”

“Whoosh uh whoosh!” Stuart commanded delightedly, flapping the blanket in preparation.

“On three then,” the two older omegas met eyes again, and Q couldn’t help feeling that he was having far too much fun for a full-grown man. But watching Stuart enjoy a nest so much was almost cathartic.

“One, two, three! Whoosh!” The two of them called the last word together as Stewie tugged with all his little might and the older omegas pulled the blanket up high over the three of them with the pup squealing and laughing.

Covered and safe, secure, the three omegas settled into comfortable positions, Stuart squirmed a good deal more, and Daniel laid out in relaxation as Q stretched before settling with some difficulty in a loose curl.

Stuart squished right down in the middle of them, happy as a clam, and squeezed his way into as much body contact and hugging as possible. The little pup was an utter limpet, and clung on with contentment and reassurance of being accepted.

Q was sure, if there was one thing he absolutely wanted to give Blasty, it was that. The knowledge that whatever else, the pup was utterly loved. Never did he want their child to doubt that.

The Mallory household was quite synergetic really. Of course most of the time together was devoid of purpose and practice, simply family time. But once a week time was set aside and devoted to giving the children a constructive outlet for their gender. M and Daniel would do this together, separately, individually or as a group, but always made a point of making time for it.

Allowing the expression of traits was important, essential. Q and Mycroft had had far too much of it… nothing but. And it was in all the strictest, most traditional and regimented ways. Sherlock had had far too little. Q didn’t get nests until he found them out for himself, driven instead to distraction throughout his childhood with no positive outlet amidst the strict omega guidelines, bedding occasionally stuffed and rumpled in some fit of pique that solved nothing. Mycroft was forced into a mould not to be deviated from, never given or encouraged to have the time or inclination to practice leadership and protection as he might have liked till the instincts ran almost rampant and became about total control.

Sherlock was just left to be an utter mess of both worlds. The natural easy-going nature of betas had been thoroughly stamped out of him by forcing him to be something he wasn’t. In the end, he’d become someone who rather than ‘go with the flow’, had no regard for the consequences of anything he did at all.

As a result, Q found the allotted time quite fascinating. The pups could choose what they wanted to do most of the time, unless their parents had some plan or idea. Stuart often chose nests and cuddles, as much as he could. Daniel informed Q (without having any idea of Q’s own upbringing of course) that this was often the way, helping omegas form strong and close bonds with their family, and of course you probably know all about it. Which he didn’t, and was surprised and fascinated. Nesting alone wasn’t needed at this stage, but sharing them had a world of good. Confidence building, bonding, helped them feel safe and secure, other members of the family were calmed by the natural pheromones and felt bonds increase, felt important…

It almost made Q voice his realisation… after all, hadn’t nesting with Alec and James brought out the same in him even now? He wondered for a vague, and rather horrifying moment, on the thought of him, Sherlock and Mycroft in a nest together…

“And the big sleep-over nest parties are great. A lot of work, but great. Stuart’s been invited to two already, they’re a lot of fun.”

To Q they sounded a trifle horrifying, but then he’d never been the social type.

The older alpha pups, of course, had entirely different and more diverse ideas and opportunities.

Adventure courses, sports, random time spent with their Papa, treasure hunt challenges, games like hide and seek, challenges, team games… It was almost overwhelming. And the idea, again, of Mycroft playing ‘save the omega’ with Sherlock as his back up was both terrifying and hilarious.

But on Sunday afternoon that was just what happened in the Mallory household.

Q was instructed to join in by two imperious alpha children and M’s vaguely pleading eye roll. Mathew and Beth had to join together with support from their teammate M, and construct a plan and items that would rescue Q from the dastardly dangers of ‘Inferno Island’.

Essentially, it boiled down to Q watching on with some alarm and a lot of entertainment as M attempted to subtly guide his two exuberant alpha offspring into finding a way to safely save Q from a tree stump in the middle of the lawn that was, naturally, surrounded by a ‘lake of lava’. Thus represented by grass. M didn’t help too much, instead doing the weight lifting for his pups and following orders, except when they’d forgotten something specific or were going over the top.

Really, it was far too entertaining. And as M had insured Q was wrapped up in more coats than he knew what to do with, it wasn’t too chilly being outside in late November in the dwindling light. The pups had until dark to find a way to use planks and fallen branches to get Q safely beyond the lava and into dinner. Q found himself quite enjoying it, and occasionally would call for help or dramatically complain about how hot the lava was and what the hunger might do to his pup come dinnertime.

Clearly the two alpha pups loved the new development of someone new to fit this game, and were very keen to get Q to dinner on time. It was sweet, really, even if M was getting more than his fair share of exercise whilst Q sat and essentially ‘looked stuck’. If James were here, then no doubt by now he would have decided lava couldn’t get through his thick skin and simply walked across, but clearly the pups liked the challenge.

Even more transparent was M’s fierce pride at watching their teamwork and problem solving.

“Do you ever regret not having enough time with them?” Q asked once he was safely rescued and helping M put away the muddied boots and jackets of the alpha pups. M’s expression grew slightly regretful at the question, and Q regretted asking almost immediately, turning to unnecessarily adjust the jacket he was hanging up.

“All the time. But I expect I’ll regret it more later. Sometimes I’m still happy to avoid bath time.” Q huffed out a grinned laugh at that, catching M’s eyes.

He could well imagine that the fearsome cacophony of sound he sometimes heard at ‘bath time’ was occasionally too much after a day spent saving queen and country.

But clearly M spent every moment he could whilst the pups were awake with them, given that sometimes they just wanted to play with each other.

“Still, you seem to be doing a pretty good job, to me at least.”

Thank you, Q. I appreciate that.” The words were spoken with a certain kind of gravity that surprised him a little, but as he turned the serious note died back a bit in M’s eyes with a half-smile.

“You seem to be doing pretty well yourself. How’s the little one today?”

“Oh, not to busy. I fear for the night however.” M chuckled at that and ushered Q inside to the kitchen.

That night, Blasty was indeed a bit of a little terror.

Q had to resort to getting up and walking around the room till the pup calmed before trying to lie down again. The rumba would start back up fairly swiftly, unfortunately. Apparently a good night’s sleep was overrated.

_-Your pup is dancing.-_ He informed James drolly, receiving a fairly swift reply.

_-I wonder what to?-_

_-The sound of my guts dying most likely.-_

_-Dramatic as ever, love.-_

For some reason, the response irked him. Probably the hormones.

_-Sleep well.-_ He replied with instead of something that could spark an argument.

_-You too, if possible.-_

Well, at least James could acknowledge that. Satisfied, though a bit worried by his own quick temper, Q laid back and tried to breathe through the samba in his stomach.

 

-00Q00-

 

_“I’m sorry you can’t make it, but if I didn’t book it now then-“_

“Its fine Q, I understand.”

_“…Still. I’ll miss you.”_ James couldn’t think of a good response to that. Q was going to their first birthing class tonight, and James wouldn’t be there because of his damn ankle. He was walking now, but had yet to be discharged because there was no one to be with him at home. He half fancied pulling some strings, but if he went home then Q would call his bluff and follow, end up taking care of him anyway, which was exactly the point he wanted to avoid.

So here he was, stuck in bed and not where he was meant to be. It felt like missing out, as if Q was going to be going and come back informed and laughing… Or worse, bitter that James wasn’t with him when everyone else had mates with them… at least, that was what the alpha himself couldn’t help but feel bitter about.

“Are you going to… take anybody else?” James hedged, trying not to sound as curious and jealous at the possibility as he was.

_“Hmm, well, I hadn’t thought really. The lady says most people take someone, even a friend or family member. But I don’t know…”_

“Guess you could just take Daniel then. Probably have a _blast_.”

_“…I’m sorry, what?”_ Internally, and belatedly, James realised the snide tone of his words.

“Nothing, Q.”

_“No I think you should say it. Just what is wrong with me taking someone with me somewhere where I might want a familiar face? It’s under your orders that I’m not to be alone after all-“_ James’ growl cut off Q’s rising irritation. They’d been apart far too long.

“There’s nothing wrong with it.”

_“So just Daniel then.”_

“Christ Q! It doesn’t matter who you take, I don’t damn well care alright?”

_“…I see.”_ Oh. Fuck. Cringing at how that came out wouldn’t help anything. The quiet disapproval and stung tone in Q’s voice cut through him.

“Q I-“

_“No sorry, James, you can bloody well bugger off. Call me back when you decide you care!”_ With that Q hung up with enough vicious hurt in his words to make his mate flinch.

James dropped the phone with a groan and looked up at the ceiling.

Well, he’d royally buggered that one up.

Christ, and Q was nervous about these baby things anyway.

Simple frustration had gripped him. He and Q had seen each other once since the weekend, and that briefly. His omega smelt of Mallory –another alpha, which was distressing and aggravating in one- and Villiers even more so, and their pups. Every conversation involved M’s clan. He couldn’t be the mate he needed to be for his pregnant Q. Being bed-ridden was god-awful…

Really it boiled down to missing Q and feeling useless. The anger of moments before left him feeling no better, and instead guilty and aggravated and worried…

 

He’d left Q pissed off and upset, maybe hurt by misreading James’ jealousy as lack of care towards the pregnancy… Maybe thinking the alpha didn’t want to pull his weight, or worse. And now the omega had to go out to a class, and probably wouldn’t bring Daniel out of confusion and feeling uncomfortable. He’d never bring M either… Would Q go alone and miserable, be unprotected and distressed?

“God. Q…” James eyed his phone, scrolled for Q’s number, paused, went back to send a text instead in case his mate didn’t want to hear his voice yet.

_-I’m sorry. Please take someone with you.-_

Other than infringe on Q’s privacy by trying to organise someone, and risk angering Q even more, there wasn’t much more James could do. He just hoped that Q wouldn’t risk his health or peace of mind just to spite James.

Resigning himself to feel guilty, mutinously angry and depressed for the night, James pulled the final version of his ‘Casino Royale’ towards himself, determined to proof-read and berate himself into submission until the tide of Q’s fury might have blown over… or until he could think of something particularly witty and entreating to say. Whichever came first.

 

-00Q00-

 

Q stabbed off the phone call to James with shaky rage, throat caught and pursing his lips together to repress any outward sign of emotion.

It was surely an overreaction, wasn’t it? He knew James cared… but feeling jealous? _Really_? When it was James’ scheme in the first place, and Q had no choice but to do these classes now, he felt that the passive aggression was hardly fair.

Even reminding himself of James trapped in the hospital did little to soothe him. Instead Q felt ridiculously close to tears… _again_. That thought alone only sent him there quicker.

For Christ’s sake! He used to at least get mad rather than trip into sobs every time one or other of them screwed up.

Clenching his phone as if to feel some kind of rage, or righteous anger, or anything, the omega rather felt nothing but prickling in his eyes and some sort of betrayal.

Stupid bloody Bond… Or was that unfair? God, who cared? He was miserable and missed James and the man was unintentionally making it so damn hard- No, thinking like that wouldn’t do any good.

But damn it all, that had _hurt_.

Buzzing broke through his momentary tormented stasis and it took Q a moment to realise he was automatically answering his phone. _James_?

“Hello?”

_“Aster, greetings.”_ Oh, Mycroft. Unwarranted, and decidedly unwanted, a sob escaped him before Q could slap a hand over his mouth. _“Star?”_ Sharp, demanding.

“Mycroft. Sorry, it’s just… nothing. How are you?” Q could almost hear the frown.

_“…Adequate. What has happened?”_ And he _really_ didn’t want to set off Mycroft, which was what helped him calm down. With a sigh Q leaned back on the wall of his borrowed room and took off his glasses to better rub his face.

“Mm. Just some stupid hormone frenzy. I reacted badly to something.” There was an all too lethal silence.

_“What did he-“_

“Please Mycroft. Don’t.” Q interrupted, mostly calm sounding. “I appreciate the sentiment but we’ll handle it. And besides I don’t want to talk about it, I’ll only get worked up.”

Unsurprisingly Mycroft did not seem fond of this concept, but tried to rein in most of his ire for his pregnant brother’s nerves.

_“Are you sure?”_ Q thought about it, tapped his fingers on the wall, glasses still held there rattling a little.

“We had a tiff. Anyway I have to go out tonight. Parenting class.” The news distracted Mycroft pleasantly.

_“Ah, and where will you be going?”_ Only too willing for the distraction himself, Q launched into topic for a couple of minutes.

“…You could come with me, actually, if you wanted. Or, well…” There was a moment of pause.

_“Aster I would be honoured. Shall I pick you up?”_ an entirely too relieved sigh escaped the omega at his brother’s easy acceptance, and the simple fact that he had the time to come on such short notice. At least now he wouldn’t be alone, whatever else.

 

-00Q00-

 

Really, he should have seen it coming. Mycroft was an absolute nightmare. The other assembled couples seemed terrified of him, mates and the impregnated both, whilst Q schooled his features away from hopeless resignation into something more presentable.

“I trust that all of these nurses have their correct training, are taking frequent enough breaks so that they have the strength to continue at best performance. Do you ever switch teams during a labour? I’m not sure I agree with the layout of this room, rather _smothered_ don’t you think… there are absolutely no nesting facilities-“

“We have a separate area for those who wish to nest during-“

“Well then how do they get from one suite to another? Surely you do not remove an ensconced and comfortable from their nest only to distress them with a move during late labour?”

The nurse and midwife showing them around the hospital’s maternity word cowered back from their previous attempt to sway the alpha’s mood towards mildly pleasant.

As it turned out, Mycroft had a lot of questions. No one else could get a word in edgeways. The other assembled and awkward looking beta and alpha fathers appeared rather relieved that someone was doing all the asking for them, their mates, well, not so much. And of course by the end of the hospital tour and after having watched a heavily Mycroft-interrupted video of several different births there was a distinct air of terror and mutiny.

Q felt exhausted. But couldn’t bring himself to be particularly surprised given that he should have anticipated this much. He thought that Mycroft must still be rather sore over the unplanned nature of his omega sibling’s first heat, and was attempting to remove the stain of ‘unprepared’ from his ledger.

The other pregnant men and women shot the pair of them dirty or horrified looks as they passed on their way out. Q tiredly wondered what they must think of him, that his mate couldn’t stand him so he’d brought along his equally unbearable brother, or that he was exceedingly paranoid and so he had brought along his completely over the top brother?

Regardless, he didn’t anticipate he’d be making many friends. Even re-glancing at James’ latest text did little to make him feel better. But at least Mycroft seemed happy and satisfied, Q was just glad they hadn’t been kicked out.

“Well, that was very satisfying, thank you Aster. I feel much better about your choice in hospital now.” Q raised an eyebrow and pulled a face that his brother didn’t see. Some day Mycroft might just drive him into insanity. Keeping his phone in his hands, James’ message on the screen, the quartermaster followed the alpha over to their car. Once they were sitting, Blasty choosing to have a small rolling swish, Mycroft turned to him.

“Now, are you going to tell me about James, or do I have to prise it out of you?” Q glanced mutinously at his older brother.

“Eve’s been rubbing off on you.” Mycroft raised an eyebrow, but didn’t reply to the statement. Q sighed and turned to look out the window.

“It was just semantics. We’ve been apart too long.” Again Mycroft’s face downturned in disapproval. He hadn’t been best pleased when Q had explained why he was picking the omega up at M’s house instead of the one that the younger lived in.

“He appears to be unnecessarily… _jealous_ of me being friends with M’s mate.” Q informed stiffly, trying to pick his words. At least Mycroft had the security clearance to hear all this.

To his surprise, instead of being typical and exploding into the glowering disapproval of near-silent rage that Q expected, Mycroft raised his head and eyebrows with a soft, knowing, ‘ah’.

Q spun to him.

“Ah? Ah what?” The alpha’s smile was cynical yet understanding.

“I’m afraid, Aster, that that is a very human trait. I trust you _know_ he cares for you?” Q flustered a bit, mildly offended.

“Of course! I-“

“That is because we Holmes’ are made of sterner stuff, able to cope beyond the, how to put it? _Mundane_. However, no matter how skilled your mate is, he is still fallible.”

“Well so am I.” Q frowned, a touch defensive. Mycroft eyed him fondly.

“Indeed. I myself was quite surprised when I found that you barely smell of your own mate anymore.” At Mycroft’s insinuation Q’s hackles shot up.

“That’s hardly- its his fault! How am I meant to smell of him when we’ve been apart for nearly two weeks, and I’m living in somebody else’s house? There’s not a lot I can-“

“Tell me, when James was on missions and you were separated for longer and longer times, how did you cope without his scent?” Q’s mouth snapped shut at the far too astute tone.

“Well I, I wore his clothes, sometimes.” Q mumbled. Mycroft nodded a little, smirking.

“And when James returned, unless he was meeting you after a mission too covered in testosterone to smell anything but himself, what did he do before seeing you?” Far-too knowing words cut into him once more.

“He, he’d take a shower, one of those contamination ones.” In fact, the more Q thought about it, the more he realised just what lengths James had gone to to prevent his scent –or rather the scent of others on him- from distressing his omega.

“I’ll make a detour by your house shall I?”

“…Thank you.”

 

-00Q00-

 

Their house was just as left, James’ clothes and soap lying out in easy access. Q also found the half-buried and dusty remains of the bottle of _‘Neutrick: scentless body-wash for omegas’_ that he used to use before mating James. It was about the only way he had of neutralising his scent for important meetings or the time surrounding his heats. Even on suppressants, some biological changes remained, if muted.

Luckily it was still in date. Considering the stuff was like paint-stripper in a bottle, Q wasn’t too surprised.

Soon everything was packed neatly into a plastic bag and Q was checking he didn’t have anything exciting to bring with him by way of entertainment when visiting James next. Venturing down to his mate’s study next to his own in the basement, Q scanned the desk and shelves for an interesting read, accidentally knocking a few things over with his general clumsiness.

“Oh shit.” Easing down to the ground Q gathered up the spilled papers, eyes glancing over them absently for some sort of numbering to order them. Instead a word caught his eyes sharply.

_Vesper._

With a double take Q caught back the page and scanned through. It seemed to be some sort of time-line… One he recognised from James’ stories. His early missions.

Hurriedly he looked through the other pages, for a panicked moment worried that James had flaunted national security with bringing sensitive, if old, documents home. It was more surprise and doubt of this that had him nosing through. What he found…didn’t quite fit.

This wasn’t an after action report, briefing or even a psych file… It was a retelling, a _story_ …

James was writing a story? About…about Vesper.

No: not a story. Just, writing about her. Their story.

The dates on the page, the times, this was James’ fateful mission to the Casino Royale, and everything that it entailed afterwards. Some parts bullet pointed, some nearly complete and clearly proof read.

_But… why_? He couldn’t help thinking, something unpleasant and scared twisting in his gut.

His James, of course he _knew_ about Vesper Lynd, and what the woman had meant to his mate. Everything that she had done. In some respects, it was only the woman’s betrayal that meant Q now had a mate at all.

Was this, closure? Desire? Mourning? Wishing…

Nausea washed over him at that, and guilt, and a not inconsiderable amount of impossible to avoid pain.

He’d never been in love like James, before James. Maybe that was a detriment to himself, but it was true. He could never truly understand the pain of loosing someone loved so deeply, but he could only too readily imagine the pain of loosing James, or rather the terror that it might happen.

To loose James to a mere memory-

“Don’t be stupid.” Q berated himself. That would be cruel and unkind to James, no matter how much it hurt Q to even read what he was seeing. If this was something James wanted or needed to do, then he should at least try to understand that fact. That was within his capabilities, right?

But just right now, combined with their earlier tiff, Q didn’t feel very capable at all. Slowly he stood, putting the papers back. James would probably know they were out of place, but Q didn’t know what to do about them.

How did he feel about them, other than shaky and vaguely sick? He raised a trembling hand to take his phone, looking at the text from earlier…

And maybe that was what the problem was, that James had just… carried on as if he wasn’t spending several waking hours writing, thinking about his past love. God what if he’d been planning this out whilst they were in bed together? Whilst they were talking to their pup?

Q gagged and covered his mouth, bending over till he could breath through the clogging feeling in his throat.

It was impossible to completely eradicate a person, an event from ones thoughts. Q thought about all kinds of things all the time. It certainly didn’t, _shouldn’t_ mean James loved him any differently, any less…

So why did it feel like he’d just caught his mate having an affair?

With a frantic urge to leave, to get out, Q spun round and nearly ran out of the basement, heading back up to Mycroft with barely contained emotions.

“There you are, Aster? What happened?”

“I’m tired I want to leave.” Q bit out, barely able to keep himself from dissolving into a screaming rage or sobbing distress. Dammit all it didn’t help when he couldn’t control his own swinging emotions. Mycroft, wisely, seemed to sense an imminent breakdown in Q’s tensed to death posture and wild, staring eyes fixed on the wall. Something flinched minutely through the older Holmes, something like horror, like recognition.

“Let me take you back to Mallory’s.” The alpha suggested, a cautious plea in his words.

“No. No. I’m not going there, I won’t I-“ Q’s voice chocked off, and at worry of just _what_ would come out of his mouth next he clamped it shut violently and shook his head. Mycroft stepped closer tentatively.

“Then let me take you home.” Mycroft meant his home, and though that meant he wouldn’t likely terrorise M and Daniel’s impressionable children still he found himself shaking his head spasmodically.

He _couldn’t_. He didn’t want to…

“I just want to be alone.” Q forced out, words hard and guttural with repressed emotion.

“With respect, I don’t know that you should be.” Q’s fists threatened to clench, one hand tightening around his phone, his lifeline to James…

What was he doing, what were they both doing? This was, it hadn’t affected their relationship, but that was because James was _hiding_ something like this. And Christ, it was only a bloody book, not like a warm body… Within seconds he was hashing out James’ number on his phone, rage and hurt clouding his judgement even as Mycroft shifted uncomfortably next to him with an awkward cough.

James picked up quickly, voice relieved.

_“Q-“_

“Tell me why, _why_ -“ Q cut himself off, voice furious and wrecked. Could he really just out and ask James? What would the answer even be? Was he overreacting?

_“I didn’t mean it Q. The hospital was just loosing its charm, and I miss you. I never meant to insinuate that I didn’t care. Please-“_

“And when were you going to tell me that you were writing about you old girlfriend? Fuck. _Fuck_.” Q swore himself off, covering his eyes, it had blurted out against all desire or sense.

_“What do you… oh, the book.”_

“So it is a book. Good. I was worried for a minute that it was a _short novel_!” His own screech shocked him and Q nearly threw the phone away before he could do more damage.

_“Q, its not-“_

“Its not like I can even compute how you must feel about her but you didn’t say anything and I don’t want to be neurotic but now, now…” His spew of words slowed as his sickened worries came out. Q took a pause to breath, hands trembling. “Now I’m worried, worried that you were thinking about _that_ , when we were alone together, or when you were touching my stomach, or when I was rabbitting on about Blasty, or…” Again his voice caught from the low, barely spoken terror gripping him.

_“No Q. No, it wasn’t, it wasn’t even about her. Christ. Where are you?”_

“Where do you think!?” Q snapped, covering his face again, shuddering.

_“Right. Come over Q, let me talk to you. Please.”_

Some wretched sound escaped him, half growl half whimper.

“No. I don’t-“

_“Q, please. I was just writing everything. That was, it was the only place I could think to start. Not finish. Or maybe, maybe I just needed to do it. I don’t know. You know me, I don’t think that much-“_ James’ attempt at a self berating laugh managed to cut through his tension slightly.

“That’s a lie. You think about everything you do, all the time.” He responded, voice gone shaky and small.

_“…Q,”_

“So answer me this, just please… Why didn’t you ever mention it to me?”

_“Because it wasn’t finished.”_ The swift and honest reply seemed to shock them both into a long pause.

“And, and then?” Q asked, half scared of the answer.

_“I wanted you to read them, all of them, if you wanted to… all the missions I thought…made a difference. It isn’t about her Q, its about me, and later, maybe, us…”_ It was rare, to hear James so inarticulate, a man who could usually charm the stars from the sky if he wanted. Q took a shaky breath.

_“And I’m not, I wouldn’t think about her instead of you, you’re everything Q… I would have hoped you’d known that…”_ James finished tentatively, hopefully, cautiously. Q sniffed and rubbed his face, hearing James’ breathing stiffen at the noise down the other end of the phone.

“I do know it. I just… I was shocked.” Q acquiesced after a moment, calming, feeling drained, knackered. There had really been too much of this lately. “I’ll, I should probably go now.”

_“Q, are we, are you alright? How was the class?”_ Q struggled to sound composed for a moment rather than bone-weary and wanting to cry somewhere dark.

“I’ll tell you about it soon, alright? I need, I should get back,” Looking away from the phone Q sought his brother’s openly sharp gaze. “Mycroft can you…”

He had meant ‘take me back’, but whether the alpha understood him or not Mycroft strode forwards and plucked the phone from Q’s hands before he could react. Across the line he could hear James’ queries continuing before Mycroft raised the phone and spoke.

“James,” There was a moment’s pause, but Mycroft seemed to disregard whatever the other alpha said. Q just watched a bit helplessly, half relieved of obligation. It was only too easy to rely on Mycroft’s control sometimes. “He’ll be fine, I’m taking him back to my house tonight and shall return him to M’s in the morning. I think its best you both took some time to calm down before seeing each other again when you are discharged.”

The words held both threat and orders, structure. James must have agreed in some way because Mycroft hung up and returned the phone to Q.

“Come along then, if you accept the offer?” Mycroft even went so far as to hold out his arm for Q to take. Simply too tired to disagree, Q did. “We can inform the Mallory’s on the way.”

“Alright.”

Mycroft’s London house was opulent and evidently finely cherished with attention. It was so infused with Mycroft that it was a bit like entering into a bubble. A world that the alpha had complete control of.

“And to think,” Mycroft commented as they hung their coats up, helping Q unnecessarily up the stairs to the living room. “I only called you tonight to tell you that I’m going to sell the house we all lived in together, now here you are in this one.”

Q wasn’t so miserable that he couldn’t appreciate the irony in that, at least.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rather than say anything else, and regardless of whether you're a festive lover, hater or passive, I hope you all get a great Christmas/day in general, full of things you enjoy. :D
> 
> Love you guys, you're bundles of joy and dancing and various embarrassing squeaks every week, and I adore you.   
> See you next time, and thanks for reading!


	39. H0: Two is company; Two and a half is home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, what with christmas, a few small feuds, a burgeoning cold, new years, the new Sherlock tonight, illegal tenant hedgehogs and satanic messages being pranked in our kitchen, its been a busy week and a bit!  
> Hope you all had a good new year's day, and enjoy! :3

Staying with Mycroft had been brief but strangely familiar. There was comfortable furniture, a quiet atmosphere, and of course delicious food. By the time Mycroft had organised a mini-selection of fine cakes and patisseries Q was feeling a bit more like himself. The tea was excellent, and Mycroft was generous as always.

Blasty didn’t let him get much sleep, Q spending the night rubbing or walking or singing or whatever he could think of. The pup seemed to be picking up on Q’s discomfort and the lack of homely stimuli. The lack of James.

Q couldn’t honestly say he was enraged anymore. The whole thing made him a bit uncomfortable, some inner and internal conflictions of doubt and self worth warring with his ability to believe James’ innocent reasons. But really, what else could he do? Reflection was hardly a crime, even if it was quite concrete in appearance. Probably, the strain of being apart was just making his emotions go even more haywire than usual during this pregnancy.

Dramatically the omega sighed.

“Thank God it will be over soon. Ten weeks, and its all over.” He commented, running both hands under the curve of his belly in soothing rhythm.

Mycroft’s driver dropped him off at MI6; the alpha already at work but leaving brewed tea and delectable breakfast foods in his wake. Courtesy of the cook, no doubt.

With renewed vigour to make it to the weekend, and James’ hospital release on Sunday, Q delved into work and immersed himself. In fact, he forgot when it was time to leave, having to be reminded by Tanner’s timely presence whilst in the middle of a mission for 0010. Really, James’ new recruits were taking to it like ducks to water. Q felt a thrill of secondary pride watching them, and a gratifying pleasure from being able to help them smoothly and effectively.

“Excellent work, double oh Ten, flights are booked for your return at oh three hundred hours.”

 _“Put the kettle on eh? I’m bloody thirsty.”_ Q smiled very slightly.

“Will do. Safe journey agent.”

With the call terminated Q turned to Tanner sheepishly.

“Sorry, time got away from me.” The Chief of Staff frowned and glanced at his watch, looking surprised for a moment.

“Oh, I’d forgotten about that, actually.” Bill sounded perplexed at his slip, which gave Q cause to smile.

“Then to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Double oh Eight, wants to have a word.” Tanner explained, a touch awkwardly. Q frowned, bemused, and not expecting that response in the least.

“He does?” The alpha nodded, looking like he believed it about at much as Q.

“He’s adamant, but in a calm mood. Only if you’re willing, of course.” Q frowned, surprised, and looked around a bit to make sure there wasn’t anything he was meant to be doing.

“No, no that’s, fine… You’ll have to stay with me,” Q reminded, recalling James’ orders on the 008 subject, especially in light of the recent fiasco.

“I intend to.” Tanner assured steadily, and nodded.

“Well, alright then.” Q agreed, baffled, and collected his effects before heading out alongside his colleague.

“How goes work upstairs?” Q asked as they walked, Tanner sighed with a good-natured smile.

“The usual madness, most people seem to be squabbling over holiday rights for Christmas, there’s always some that forget the ‘Including bank holidays’ part of their contract.” Q grinned too, he’d received more than his fair share of pleading messages from his branch about holiday dates to send on to relevant departments.

“Yes, people do get a bit frantic around this time.” Tanner hummed in heartfelt agreement.

“What about you and Bond, you’ll be off for the day right?” Q frowned.

“I’ll be part time, I thought I’d cover some of the Christmas slack since I’ll only be doing a few hours. Show some branch support. Feel like I’ve hardly been here recently.” Tanner offered a smile.

“I don’t think anyone could accuse you of not showing branch support Quartermaster.”

“Oh no?” Q returned with, grinning. “And where will you be on the day then?” Tanner returned his expression.

“Touché.”

-00Q00-

 

008 was currently still in residence at MI6, he’d been party to a battery of mental and physical tests whilst M and the other higher ups decided what the hell to do with him. As Q entered the temporary bunker room however, he found the alpha agent packing suitcases.

“Double oh Eight.” Q greeted, a touch warily. The man turned to him, calmly dropping some clothes in the nearest case, and whistled a bit at the sight of Q’s belly. Determinedly, Q didn’t move to cover himself up.

“Putting on the pounds now aren’t you, Bond fattening you up for Christmas?” Q frowned a bit in distaste and 008 grinned as though both of them had been in on the joke that only one found amusing. Tanner cleared his throat pointedly in the background. The agent growled slightly but conceded the point.

“Fine. Well, turns out I’m being transferred down to Michael Norton’s office in MI5. M’s keeping it pretty hush hush, but that’s the short of it.” Q blinked.

“What’s the new position?” The man snorted.

“Have to kill you if I tell you omega. Mind your own business.” Q bit his tongue, seeing as 008 would never mind his own business. Still, the man would be out of Q’s hair. That, and he didn’t want to push too hard to find out _why_ 008 was being transferred there, of all places, what the purpose was… He knew the sort of work Grady did. The man was England’s chief torturer. To matter how they tried to dress up the title. Q had met him only once, and was glad to see the back of him. 008 was probably right up his alley, one way or another…

“Alright then.” Q turned to leave. He wasn’t quite ready for a tearful goodbye with the man.

“Q, wait.” The alpha _ordered_ behind him. Despite himself, Q froze, Tanner tensing in the background, and turned back to the agent distastefully.

“Yes?” He hissed. For a moment, 008 looked frustrated, then resigned.

“Sorry, quartermaster. After all this time, I just wanted to see if I could. There must be a bit of trust left in you, for you to obey me at all.” The words couldn’t help but be snide, and it was only Q’s current pregnancy that kept him from storming forwards and hitting the man, or storming out. Not wanting to give 008 the satisfaction of seeing him snarl, Q raised a haughty eyebrow.

“Don’t tempt me. Are you quite finished?” For some reason, the words seemed to touch something deeper than skin level, and 008 growled but ducked his head in _submission_. Q, and Tanner by the inhale, were similarly astounded.

“Yes. I’m finished. Good luck with the brat, guess that’s all I wanted to say, and cheers too.” Q pulled a quizzical expression.

“For?” At that, there was a dangerous grin.

“For being the best bloody quartermaster I’ve had, despite being an omega. You’re not too bad.” Breathing out through his nose, Q wondered how exactly he was meant to feel about that.

“Thank you, double oh Eight. It’s certainly been, interesting.” The agent grinned devilishly at that with sharp teeth, and Q nodded to him briefly before making his way out of the room finally. Tanner followed him, 008 whistling some contentedly creepy tune or other behind him.

“Well that was…” Tanner trailed off.

“Quite.” Q replied. But he also breathed a deep sigh of relief. It seemed a large weight off his shoulders, letting 008 go. With some luck, they’d never cross paths again. And even though they were now another 00 agent down, Q couldn’t help but feel elated at the news.

He’d save the dancing for later, though.

But he’d evidently made some impression on the acerbic alpha, and as two years went being the quartermaster, he would count his progress with 008 as not too bad. Really, he’d even impressed himself.

That one would be going down in the history books somewhere: 008 complimenting an omega. It felt entirely too much like a success.

 

-00Q00-

 

“I don’t want you to go! Maurice should stay and live with us.”

“Yeah! Papa can be your new mate as well as Dada’s!”

“Now bumpkins, be nice, Maurice is missing his mate very much.” M tried to halt the conversation before Mathew and Beth could incur the wrath of their mother too much. Or offend his quartermaster too much… Or embarrass the man himself too much for that matter. Daniel looked torn between amusement and annoyance at the idea of sharing M.

“But his mate is stupid!”

“Bethany May Mallory mind your manners.” Daniel criticised, the pup looking suitably mollified.

“Or I can be Maurice’s mate if Papa’s too old-“

“Mathew Brenin Mallory, respect!” Q struggled not to laugh at M’s indignant self-defence and his firstborn’s sullen chastisement.

“Well I _could_.” Mathew muttered petulantly. Sensing a loosing battle Q swiftly knelt down. Well, swift wasn’t the correct term exactly, hampered as he was by belly and omega pup limpeted to him. Apparently none of the Mallory children wanted him to leave. Q couldn’t understand for a moment why, but had grown quite fond of the vibrant bundles of chaos that were M’s progeny. They pouted at him now with wide eyes as he smiled.

“Now come on, I’ll still be seeing you every now and then.”

“It’s not the same!” Beth interrupted with an upset little foot stamp.

“You belong to us!” Mathew added with all the authority an eight-year-old alpha could muster. Q raised an eyebrow sharply, as if a pair of recalcitrant double oh’s were lined up before him. God forbid that one day either of these two would be, they’d even put James and Alec to shame.

“No, I don’t. I am not a possession. If you suggest as much I wont come visit you for Christmas.” Instantly two expressions changed into delighted grins.

“You’ll come back at Christmas?” Beth enthused.

“Will you stay longer?” Mathew pleaded.

“No, but I will bring presents, how does that sound?”

Clearly the suggestion required a great deal of complicated thought. After a moment of scrunched up faces Beth finally broke free.

“Okay, but then you have to build us a nest with Papa and Dada!”

“Nest!” Mathew echoed in demand. Hearing Daniel chuckle and Stewie loosen his grip a bit, Q decided that was probably as good as it was going to get.

“Alright, you win. Come on then, give me a hug.” Q opened up his non-pup filled arm and beckoned the two young alphas into an embrace. They scampered forwards with minimal shoving and clung on, nuzzling his shoulder in a demanding way.

“Miss you!” Mathew announced miserably.

“You too, you be good pup, I want to see that ship model complete when I come back.”

“Okay!” Q ruffled the boy’s hair and received a sort of over-enthusiastic face rub that nearly knocked his glasses askew.

“Come on squirt.” Daniel gently pulled Mathew back and Beth immediately utilised the space to her advantage by flinging small arms around Q’s neck and sniffing into his neck before sloppily kissing his cheek.

“Come back soon.”

“I will. You be good too gorgeous, find a perfect spot for that nest.”

“I will!”

“Alright.” Q smiled and patted her back as she retracted before turning to the teary-eyed Stewie.

“Nooo,” the pup pleaded, pawing at Q’s jumper and reminding the older omega of their first encounter. He would miss them all, but the youngest pup was particularly easy to be around given his highly affectionate nature.

“I’m afraid so cub.” The little face crumpled. “Don’t worry though, I’ll be back before you know it.” Q offered calmly with a smile, tapping the little nose of the younger omega with his finger. How much the pup understood, Q didn’t know, but Stuart didn’t seem convinced. “Papa and Dada will make you feel better, and your brother and sister, alright?” Stewie just pouted and rung his little hands into Q’s jumper before ducking into his neck.

“Owkay.” Q smiled fondly, eyes crinkling, and pressed a kiss to the pup’s soft hair.

“Alright, over you go.” He handed the wriggling pup into M’s hands, who scooped the youngest close and was immediately curled around tightly.

“Okay, everyone say bye now.” Daniel prompted, and an array of ‘bye bye’s broke out in different emotion states. “Good, now who wants to help carry things-“ The oldest pups scampered off swiftly at the suggestion of menial labour and briefly tugged on M’s trouser leg for Stewie before giggling their way out of the room, younger brother in chaotic tow.

With the hurricane of mini Mallory’s dispersed the kitchen seemed a lot calmer. Q breathed out and pushed himself upright, immediately finding two hands helping him on either side. The pair of them seemed to always move with the same natural sync. Daniel turned to look at him, concern in his eyes.

“You’re sure we can’t drive you over there?” Q smiled a bit.

“No, it’s fine, I can do this one by myself.” Daniel smiled knowingly and pulled him into a cheek rub, stroking down Q’s belly as he went with his comfortably knowledgeable touch.

“Alright then.” There was a loud clang from somewhere upstairs and Daniel sighed with a long-suffering exasperation. “Duty calls, safe home Q.”

“Thank you, and for, well, everything.” Daniel’s grin turned toothy.

“You’re always welcome, they will expect you back you know.” With that and a wink the omega went to go mind the rowdy brood.

M cleared his throat and clapped Q on the shoulder with a small squeeze.

“Shall we?”

“Mm, thank you.” Q nodded, also bending to grab a bag, M pushed the lightest one to him and carried the other out. Beside the MI6 car, bags safely stowed, the alpha turned back to Q appraisingly.

“You’re alright with everything, nothing to worry about?” Q smiled a bit.

“We will be, nothing we can’t handle.” He’d had some time to think of James’ reasons for writing this book, remembered conversations they’d had that might have hinted at it even. Really, he just couldn’t find it in himself to be too mad. He trusted James, and it would be callous to assume James thought any less of him for writing this. The man had gone above and beyond for Q, memories shouldn’t change that; Q refused to let it happen.

They’d been apart too long, and both of them were prone to rash decisions in the heat of the moment. More than anything, he just wanted to be back with his mate again.

“Thank you, for this.” M smiled a little.

“Least I could do. See you on Monday.” Q nodded, shook the man’s hand, and climbed into the car.

Soon he’d be at the hospital, and tomorrow he and James could go back home.

Finally. He never wanted to leave their house again.

 

-00Q00-

 

Q had to go announce himself at reception in the hospital, the cheery beta lady on duty seemed to recognise him.

“Are you here for your mate Mr. Black? You can go right through.”

“Thank you. Although first, I wonder if you couldn’t point me towards a shower?” She looked puzzled at him not simply using the one James had in his room, but pointed him in the right direction none the less.

Hospital showers are universally uninspiring places, Q reflected as he ventured to the ’male’ door and then slipped down into the omega partition. Usually he wouldn’t bother; especially with the showers all empty this time of evening. But the point of this was to not smell of other alphas. Or other anything, really.

Carefully he set his bag out of water’s reach, stripped off old clothes and bagged them before gathering his non-scented soap and turning on the water.

There was something uncomfortable about the sterility of the green-blue walls and the scrubbed surfaced, but it got the job done.

Once he’d thoroughly doused and soaped himself from head to toe several times Q dried off and put on a shirt of James’ under one of his thus-far unworn pregnancy-sized jumpers. The scent –even old- of James left him standing and breathing it in for a moment, hands pulling the shirt collar up to his nose and letting himself relax, tense shoulders dropping.

Once fully clothed in un-Mallory’d clothes Q finally headed over to his mate’s room.

It looked the same as last time, with the exception of James being asleep this time. Q let the door close softly behind him and dropped his bag onto a chair. Really, it was unusual for his mate to sleep through even that, but the man was still on some painkillers in the evening that might limit his awareness.

Slowly Q padded over, keeping his hands in the pockets of his coat as he went. True to Mycroft’s pseudo orders neither man had spoken to each other over the last few days.

It was good to see James again, even if Q felt a little unsure about everything. These two weeks had been unsurprisingly stressful with no James, three children, a strange house and misunderstandings. He was bloody exhausted, and James looked the same.

It was tempting fate to even think it, but Q really hoped the rest of this pregnancy could go by without more mishaps.

 _Nearly two months tomorrow, just over nine weeks_. Surely they could get through that. Q could hope, at least.

As of tomorrow, December 1st, he would be on part time work, dwindling down to nothing in January. _If ever things could start to get calmer, please let it be now_.

The thought was exhausting, and just the momentary reflection of the sheer amount he, James, their pup, all of them, had been through these last seven months was enough to take any remaining energy he had left.

Settling tiredly and loosely into the chair by James’ bedside, Q sighed out long and fully. For one little burgeoning family, this had been quite a year. But now, here, with his James, wonderfully stubborn and brilliant man, sleeping like a great lion, and their pup beginning to bumble around gently, Q couldn’t help but feel at home, loved, safe.

Settling back, hands still buried into pockets of his black coat for warmth, Q kicked his feet up to rest on James’ bed beside the alpha’s own, ankles neatly crossed. With a deep breath and the securing scent of his alpha, Q relaxed, head back, and let himself drift off into a deep sleep.

 

-00Q00-

 

James woke slowly, not a common occurrence for him. The sedentary nature of his current lifestyle seemed to have gotten the best of him. Not any more. Knowledge that today he was officially free to go home was enough of a ray of sunshine to wake the agent fully… Albeit release with crutches and a cast. He still would be more of a hindrance than a help, even if alphas did heal swifter than most of the population. Six weeks recovery time, the doctors had predicted. Bond expected five, maybe four, would be enough. He’d always been a quick healer. But he’d hardly be his best until then, damn it all.

 _Never mind that now_. James chastised, stretching away the thought and refocusing on his imminent escape. With a great yawn the agent breathed in deep and froze, eyes shooting open. _Q_?

Propped feet on his bed, leading down to a wonderfully… _new_ smelling, unfettered scented, Q. The aroma was so foreign of late that James’ eyes frantically sought over the figure sleeping peacefully in the chair beside him. Needn’t have worried, James smiled to himself as he saw the evident bump of Q’s stomach peeking between the open sides of his fetching black coat. The alpha let his eyes feast over the sight of his omega, relax in the scent of him, drink in his closeness as Q dozed, glasses nearly dangling off and carefree hair obscuring some of his pale face.

Everything in James seemed to calm and tense at once, limbs and soul relaxed whilst his heart clenched slightly.

Were they alright? Well, Q was here, and that was promising enough. James was more than ready to put this whole mess behind them, hold Q again, talk to him without a phone line in the way, stroke his belly and feel their pup. His whole being called for it.

He just hoped Q’s did too.

James allowed himself ten minutes of watching Q in the faint wintry morning light before rousing himself into action. He would have spent longer taking in the dark fan of lashes and deep red of lips, the knowledge that his omega was here with him… but really he’d rather do that at home.

Pushing down the annoyance at the fact that he’d still be pretty useless for his pregnant mate, James sat up and reached over to gently shake Q’s ankle.

“Q, wake up.” Q jerked a bit and frowned, blinked, head still resting on one shoulder. He shouldn’t have slept in a chair; he’d be stiff as a board. Slowly Q’s eyes raised and focused on James, head following the movement.

“Morning, love.” James smiled, holding his breath a little, surreptitiously. Q looked around a bit with a more awake inhale and shifted further upright, stretching. James helped ease his long legs from the bed with the need to touch, to connect. Q’s stretch left him loose-limbed and he turned to James with guileless eyes.

“Hello,” James maintained the gaze for a moment before he was up out of the blankets and balancing on his good leg to pull Q into a fierce hug. Q laughed in surprise and brought his warm hands to steady James’ wobbly stance, encouraging a lean that ended up with the alpha half sitting on his omega, within cradling arms. James lost himself to the scent at Q’s neck, nosed and nuzzled there until Q produced a nearly voiceless moan and tilted his neck back. It was only too tempting to mouth and suck and eventually press a bite of teeth gently there. Re-claiming, marking, remembering. Q’s hands skittered to his neck and hair, breath shuddering a moment before the omega caved in and ducked to snuffle and inhale James’ own scent.

“Never send me away like that again.” It was only too easy to read the obvious plea amongst the imperious words, and James couldn’t measure his relief that Q wasn’t furious at him, releasing his teeth to Q’s shudder and mouthing up to soft hair instead.

“I swear it… I should have told you, Q, I’m sorry.” Q shushed softly, fingers stroking through short blonde hair, ducking his face.

“Not here. We’re together, let that be enough.” James tensed a moment and drew back, regaining his own equilibrium but unable to take his hands from stroking over Q, his face, shoulders, hair.

“Is it? Will you let me show it to you, when it’s ready? Can I ask for that?” Blue eyes searched emotive green, desperate need for acceptance meeting slightly pained, slightly sad affection.

“Of course you can.” Q replied matter of factly, as if James feeling unable to ask such a thing hurt the omega just as bad. “Just, don’t…” He struggled for words before sighing and lowering his head to look over-glasses at James. “Don’t ask me to be an angel about it, I just can’t be.” James hurried to rise slightly from his kneeling on the floor, stroking over Q’s face and shushing, eager gratitude rushing through him.

“That’s enough Q, that’s more than enough. That you can accept it even-“ Q’s rueful smile caught him short for a moment, long fingered hand managing to hush James with just a single, gentle, tug in his hair. Far too gentle and teasing to earn any kind of alpha ire or reprimand.

“It’s a part of you, isn’t it? An important part. Who am I to deny that? Why would I want to deny that? You’ve always accepted me.” The clarity of that simple statement struck James deeply. They _did_ accept each other, always had. From a battle scarred alpha accepting the slip of a pup for his Quartermaster to the omega accepting the decisions of a potentially unfit agent. There’d always been that level of respect and accept, tested and teased though it was.

“You’re far too good to me.” Q snorted lightly, still looking utterly exhausted, but calm. He seemed similarly unable to stop touching.

“I’d say we’re quite the pair for that. Now, are you going to take me home and rub my feet until I fall blissfully asleep or was that just a dream after all?” James grinned outright at that.

“It would be my pleasure,” He pushed awkwardly to his feet. “With the exception of you being the one to drive us home, of course.” Q mirrored his grin.

“I can work with that.”

 

-00Q00-

 

Within the safety and familiarity of their own home, James threw his hospital bag down, pulled Q’s away from him and grinned on his way up the stairs, looking back cheekily.

“If you think we’re doing anything when you have a bum leg, think again.”

“What do you take me for?” Q smirked, following his mate warily as the man travelled upstairs on crutches, one hand raised as if to steady the larger man.

“Exactly what you are?”

“You wound me, Q.”

“Nothing else seems to, thank god.” James rather thought he wasn’t meant to hear that last bit, but nonetheless gentled his grin a bit when at the top of the stairs, reaching through the crutch straps to take hold of Q’s waist and pull him into a kiss. Q’s lips moved eagerly and pliantly under his own, despite the omega’s insistence that James ‘take it easy’. Pulling back a bit the alpha murmured against his mate’s lips.

“I thought someone mentioned something about a foot rub?” Q breathed a small laugh against him, eyes still closed.

“Don’t you want to wash off the hospital first?”

“You’ll have to help me.” James suggested, only half playfully. There was a moment of pause where Q simply stroked James’ shoulders before the younger man pushed himself fully against the agent and nuzzled up under his chin with an almost pained whine.

The sound and movement took him entirely by surprise. Strong arms wound almost of their own accord around Q and a deep, soothing growl cleared James’ throat. They stayed that way for long minutes, nuzzling and occasionally kissing, or stilling. James’ head eventually dropped to bite properly at Q’s throat. With a small gasp Q relaxed against him, pliant in the sharp, familiar feel of James’ teeth grounding him.

James half wanted to bite the two weeks of distance out of Q’s body, cover him with scent, with himself. They needed the closeness. He’d forgotten just how it felt to be away from Q on missions, that need to reclaim and settle back into each other, reassure himself of Q’s continuing presence and love. It was powerful, visceral, and utterly out of their reasonable control save to wisely bend to it.

Sometimes, instincts weren’t something to be fought. Not like this.

“Maybe we should skip that shower.” James suggested after he released Q’s bite-bruised neck. Q tucked closer to him for a moment before withdrawing enough to steal a long kiss.

Carefully James curled his hands around the generous bump of Q’s belly, stroking round to the small of his back and digging fingers into stiff muscles. Q seemed to melt all over again with a moan, but maintained the mental faculties to tap-smack James’ shoulder.

“No. No hospital in bed. Shower first.” James grinned and kissed the cheek before him, as long as Q stayed within his arms, the alpha wasn’t complaining.

“Alright.” They had to detach enough for James to hobble along to their impressive bathroom where Q made quick work of divesting his mate of clothing. James himself perched on the bath edge to peel layers off his quartermaster, steadying him a couple of times. Apparently Q’s hips were well on their way to being ready for birth, which was quite some thought.

“Do you hurt?” Q tapped James’ fingers thoughtfully where they rested on his hips, contemplating the size of his belly. Which was impressive, to be fair.

“Mmm the roaming hips do get annoying from time to time. Really we’ll only need to worry once I lie or sit down.” James kissed Q’s stomach and looked up frowning, resting his chin on the curve of the bump.

“Why?” Q smiled down at him, a touch exasperated at his own situation, but stroked James’ cheek fondly.

“Because then I wont be able to get up.”

Q hadn’t been lying. But it didn’t take lying down to get his hips to relax; the shower and proximity of mate evidently did that. James pushed back the ache of ankle as the two of them groaned and stumbled into bed, laughing, wrapped in bath robes for the winter chill and pink skinned from the water’s warmth.

Collapsing next to Q, moulding the other man to him, James held on, once more mouthing the pale exposed throat, and felt his heart stamp at Blasty kicking away enough to make Q wince gently.

“Shh now, little pup, yes yes, daddy’s here.” Q attempted, stroking his belly. James scooped the pair of them closer and ran rough hands over Q’s stomach, shushing gently.

“Hello there pup, gentle, gentle, easy now.”

What he didn’t expect was for the soothing lull of his voice to also work on Q. Yet soon he had both mate and pup lolling into sleep. Well, mate at least. James grinned fondly at Q’s lax expression; lips slightly parted and body all of a flop. Rumbles meanwhile swam and stretched on within cushy confines whilst Q slept.

With a kiss to both mate and pup each, James settled in for another long lie down, not minding in the slightest, surrounded as he was by his two favourite beings in the world.

Later, he owed a foot rub.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mathew Mallory may be influenced by Thumper from Bambi... Who is just awesome. Stewie is half inspired by what a cute baby could be, and half what a nightmare they might be (the separation anxiety, oh god.) Beth is a little bit of of a future Wildlife Photographer and a whole heap of amusement and ramblings with my dear friend Moony, and I hope you all enjoyed reading them as much as I did writing them! Fear not, they will surely be back at some point ;3
> 
> Other than that, hope you enjoyed the fluff, and did anyone else have a crazy-ass week or was it just me? O.o I want stories. I can't be alone in this mad world...
> 
> Thank you for reading, and all those who even took the time to give me christmas kudos and comments! Hope you all had a great time, and love until next time! :D


	40. H0: Alpha politics; H1: If in doubt - bite.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was really fun to write! Finished it a few days ago but what with a bit of hectic-ness it got pushed back.  
> Also I'm off on holiday at the weekend, woo!, so I'm not sure when the next update will be. I might aim to be on time but, well, apologies in advance!
> 
> If not before, then in two weeks time. Until then enjoy!

Once again a secret agent and his quartermaster sat in a crowded doctors surgery surrounded by writhing children and fretting parents. Q looked around and felt a mixed stab of pity for the couple he spotted clinging to each other in fret of their surroundings, no bump in sight and clearly worried by their company. A smirk won out in the end as he lounged back against James’ shoulder.

“Don’t look so malevolent love.”

“I’ll try.” Q managed through a grin, James smirked over at him, blue eyes gleaming with shared amusement. That was, until a loud coo broke out next to them. They were sitting at the edge of the waiting room next to the corridor and a pair of elderly lady alphas were bending down beside them. Q jumped a little at their proximity and James growled in warning.

“Ooh how far along are you you charming thing?”

“I’m sorry-“ Q cut off into splutters as one of the ladies went right ahead and begun _petting_ his stomach. “E-excuse me!” James heard the discomfort in his voice and stood to lean over Q, one arm bracketing him out of harms way. The pair of elderly alphas had the gal to look affronted at the protective shift.

“Well how rude, a young whippersnapper like you should respect their elders.” The toucher piped up, soon backed by what could only be her mate.

“When we were your age alpha pups got put in their place for less.” She added haughtily. James looked simply stunned that these two biddies were still trying it on, and thus took a moment to notice when the second lady’s arm stuck out domineeringly to press back on Q’s belly and squish slightly in a way that was far too intimate to be appropriate. Q yelped in surprise and James _attacked_.

Q closed his eyes for a moment at the animalistic roar that came from his mate’s throat and shot down his spine. Recollecting himself only took seconds but as soon as Q wrenched his eyes open and spun to stand he feared that it would be too late.

“James!” He called, panic thundering at just what James would do…

Apparently pin two seventy-year-old _snarling_ ladies to the wall by their throats and bare bloody murder at them through his teeth.

There was pandemonium behind him as parents grabbed their children and mates shielded each other, nurses dialled for security and Dr. Darcy appeared looking horrified at the scene. Q spared a moment to feel guilty at constantly being the source of trouble in the doctor’s clinic before he lurched up and forwards for his lethal mate.

“James… _Stand down_.” He hoped the order would be enough without his designation, and with his voice quivering just slightly. After a deep breath Q steadied himself and adjusted his stance, James head was tilted ever so slightly, indicating he still heard Q through the growls.

“Let the biddies go, and relax, James, please.”

“Biddies!” One of the women screeched before James snarled at them and the tension cracked up a bit.

“James, please.” Q tried again. Slowly the tension receded until James let the women go with a small shove. They gathered around each other, snarling. James turned from them with a sneer of teeth and stalked back to Q, pushing gently into the omega’s body and melding them together.

A few deep breaths later and Q could feel his restrained trembling ease, James growling low in his throat against the omega’s chest and keeping a half feral eye on the women, blocking his mate from view.

The two alpha females were aided to their feet by a pair of brave security guards, though their eyes and tempers were still fixed on the couple that seemed to spark chaos wherever they went.

James’ arm held the tensile strength of titanium where it was curled around the small of Q’s back, not tight but undeniable.

“Ahem, Mr. and Mr. Black,” James turned towards Dr. Darcy with steel in his eyes and Q looked over too, still regaining himself. “Perhaps you’d like to come through, a bit quieter in my room I think.” He suggested with a gentle smile, offering out a hand.

“Thank you, doctor.” James and Q spoke the words at nearly the same time, both sounding far too composed for their little show not minutes before. Together they turned to head towards the room.

“Perhaps you could escort Mrs. and Mrs. Blake to the security office to remind them of the terms of this practice?” Darcy asked of the security team, who seemed hard pressed to decide where blame fell. James kept guiding Q on as he turned to peek a look at the affronted and haughty ladies. Inside the sanctuary of the room James hurried Q to a chair and pushed up his cardigan, growling in mate defence and worry, scanning for damage and barely ghosting hands over the previously grabbed belly. After that he turned up to Q, growls still low and sounding faintly agonised as he clutched the omega’s head and neck, snuffling and nuzzling over him.

“Shh shh,” Q soothed, running hands through James’ short hair and a little unnerved by the strength of his mate’s ongoing reaction… until he remembered that they’d been apart the last two weeks and James was likely still recovering.

“I’m so sorry you two, I’m afraid there are problematic individuals in all walks of life. Are you alright?” Dr. Darcy apologised, entering the room and shutting the door softly behind him. The beta maintained a respectful distance until James withdrew from Q and moved back a pace to calm himself.

“Check him over.” James ordered, tone brokering no disagreement as he lurked and took slow breaths of calm. Q remained utterly placid.

He had the fortune with James of sharing a very even-footed relationship. The man wanted to own his mate, but only as much as the omega wanted the same. They lived without succumbing to the sort of thing Q had grown up with. So did most people these days.

It wasn’t nice to be reminded of how things used to be. For anyone. The whole clinic must be in uproar… although a muscular and lethal alpha putting down two women twice his age might not have helped matters.

The past wasn’t painful for just omegas, alpha domineering and dynamics used to be the stuff of legend, or nightmare. There was a reason that in all folk legend an alpha had to kill their alpha parent before ascending over them. Much like Mycroft, obedience was often beaten or brainwashed into the more troublesome gender. Thankfully no longer, but violence between passing alphas had once been commonplace.

“Are you alright? Feeling shaky?” Darcy asked, drawing Q’s mind back, careful hands diligently checking over his stomach and gently pressing a stethoscope there.

“A bit shaken.” Q admitted, looking over at James. The alpha returned to him instantly, seeming calmer for his few seconds. The omega watched James’ eyes glance keenly over his mate’s throat before taking firm hold of the other man’s hand and squeezing instead.

“Well, excitement aside your pup seems to have a good heartbeat, in fact I think that baby’s still sleeping.” The gentle tone and slight amusement broke the tension with one of their doctor’s trademark smiles. “Now, how about some water, and then lets have a look at you, standard weigh and measure. Have you two noticed anything out of the ordinary you want to discuss?”

After a comfortable and reassuring appointment the pair left the clinic and returned to their car in near silence. Once settled inside James turned and belted Q in. The omega didn’t protest, James’ alpha moods were easy to recognise and often entirely justified. Besides, the care was usually endearing if a bit amusing.

This time not so entertaining, James was still tense as he paused, still bent half over Q, hand around the omega’s neck and fingers toying with the strands of hair at his nape. Q heard him sniff deeply, nose just brushing skin.

“James, its okay, if you need to…” Usually his mate was so forward with physical needs that it was a bit awkward to offer. There had never been any physical hesitation between them.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to, if it will make you too close to the surface.” James murmured, clearly holding himself back, restraining his instincts. Q took a breath and sighed gently, calmly nudging forwards so that his neck met James’ lips.

“You could never.” Q affirmed, gently, quietly, but with a world of conviction. He understood James’ worry, after something like that, if James reacted too strongly, perhaps directed dominance on Q, even though it was the good, protective kind, it could potentially spark Q to feel the need to submit or perform obvious appeasement. Like rolling over, which could be painful for Q.

But no, James couldn’t ever. The fact that he worried about it proved that much… the fact that Q tended to feel the need of James’ reassurance and care at the same times the man felt the need to give it spoke volumes.

Needing no more encouragement James let go and closed teeth around Q’s neck and old bite mark. Gently at first, then steadily deeper, more grounding.

Q’s world narrowed down to that point of focus and he breathed out a sigh of relief, relaxing his own tensed muscles and curling arms around James.

Between them, Blasty woke up for a stretch. Q huffed a small breath of laughter.

“Now the little one wakes up.” To Q’s delight and calm James started laughing, and released Q’s pleasantly burning neck with a kiss to bruised skin before bending down to kiss and stroke the omega’s belly.

“Little lazy bones.” He growled affectionately. Q chuckled and James sat back up, breathing out a silent thanks to Q with his eyes.

Q was just happy to see his mate smile; James’ smiles were by far his favourite thing in the world.

“My hero, protecting me from touchers.” Q grinned, and turned to his belly. “Your daddy is a truly remarkable specimen.” James laughed, loud and unstoppable for a moment and Q grinned with joy at having been able to create it.

“You could pick a better way to phrase it love.” James laughed out, shaking his head and eyes sparkling as he pushed the gear stick into first and pulled out. Q settled back contentedly and determined to try and get James to laugh as many times as he could before they returned home.

 

-00Q00-

 

Q-branch was busy with the development of a new facial tracking system when James went to pick up Q. Tonight was another prenatal class, one that James was intent on going to this time.

“Afternoon.” Q looked up, a bit frazzled under a layer of composure. R and a couple of others were around the same computer station as him, discussing and coding the project. “Ready?” Q frowned a bit, he didn’t like being interrupted at work but James wasn’t going to let him code through a class.

“Give me a minute,” Q muttered, but stood over his a computer whilst continuing to type and talk in a way that indicated finishing up.

“After that connect the primary cameras and start the test run, you can contact me by phone if you need to but I doubt they’ll be any need to worry, we’ve gone through the program with a bloody nit comb at this stage.” R grinned and one of the others chuckled as Q grabbed his bag. “Email the preliminary results, standard procedure otherwise.” James straightened, posture still relaxed as Q turned to him. “Alright.” He nodded and led the way out, giving Q the time to unwind from the day before expecting too much from him.

The omega clearly didn’t want to show it, but working was clearly tiring him quicker than he’d like, especially with a busy week having gone by. Q loved his job, but couldn’t deny the fact that he was carrying about five kilos more than he used to and sleeping badly with various aches, pains and bladder complaints. It took a while to come down from the self-control the quartermaster imposed upon himself whilst at work.

By the time they were in the car Q had loosened and smiled over at James.

“Sorry, busy day.”

“No problem.” James shrugged, glancing over with a smile. Q had had to deal with much worse than tiredness when James was post-mission… that time with the infected patch-job on his sliced forearm came to mind. The alpha had turned up alcohol-numbed and barely conscious into their bed whilst Q was asleep after a long shift. It had been a bit messy.

“Excited?” Q asked, pushing himself into a comfortably slouched position in the car and grinning over.

“As long as you don’t abandon me to violent midwives asking to explain your brother’s actions last week.” Q laughed through a wince, relaxed and happy, causing James to grin and force his eyes back to the road.

“I’d forgotten about that, Christ, I’m still surprised they let me come back.”

“Can’t have been that bad.”

“You weren’t there, you didn’t see their faces.” Q corrected, sitting up and fixing the heating on in the car. The weather had started to turn bitterly cold in typical England fashion. London had become covered in Christmas lights glittering from every angle.

“What are we doing for Christmas?” James found himself asking, taking himself by surprise. Q looked over, surprised.

“We’re doing something for Christmas?”

“Well, we’re both in the country for once.” Q pulled a contemplative face as if he hadn’t thought about it much.

“True… I suppose we could… decorate or something. Have people over.”

“That is the norm I hear.” James teased, grinning over. Q stuck his tongue out a little but smiled regardless.

“All well and good, but have you thought of the practicalities?” James frowned this time.

“Alec’s a practicality?”

“Ah, thought this through have you?”

“He’s owed some leave.”

“He’s owed too much leave. He never ends up taking it.” James shrugged a bit, hoping to sound casual.

“He’s thinking about it this time.” Q looked mildly surprised. Other than standard downtime Alec rarely took holidays.

“Oh? Well then, we may have a problem.” James was moderately grateful that Q didn’t pursue the topic, he didn’t quite want to verbalise just how keen Alec was about spending time with them, just in case it made Q begin to feel pressured and worried about any complications damaging another life. Truth was though; Alec had been pretty open when he’d informed James that being part of a pack had become so important to him.

“What’s the problem?” Q gulped a bit.

“I…believe that my brothers may also want some part in the Christmas celebrations. Apparently John and Sherlock celebrate most years with their friends, and Mycroft, well, he won’t say it, possibly will simply turn up though.” James smiled a little sadly.

“Q, its not a problem if your family come over for Christmas.” The point of factly way he said it made Q blink in surprise.

“No?”

“No. Alec’s coming over isn’t he?” Q settled back a bit at that, contemplatively.

“Oh.” James smiled at the small tone of realisation. “Well, alright then, if you’re sure you won’t mind?”

“Not in the slightest.” They grinned at each other, laughed for no reason other than the fact that the conversation was so… mundane compared to their lives.

“God I hope we don’t turn boring from this.” Q joked, smiling.

“Not a chance.” James replied, content and not even worried about it. The alpha had a feeling that even if they both took up roles as Geography teachers their life would still manage to be beyond average. Above average…

At least as long as they could get through this pregnancy whole and unscathed. Something James was fervently hoping these classes would help with.

As it turned out, they did. Along with a couple of rather vivid demonstrations and embarrassing features, James’ main job, he discovered –other than to take whatever abuse a labouring Q dished out at him- was to learn how to cope with a possible home birth, and remember some breathing and massage tactics to help Q through the pain.

This, he took very seriously. Q seemed a little horrified at the determination and focus that James directed at watching and copying the exercises, but he knew the value of good research, and this class was much more than ‘just a bit of a laugh. As everyone else seemed to think it was.

“Um, darling… I think you’re scaring people.”

“You’re my priority here love.” Q blinked a bit and patted James’ hand awkwardly.

“Yes, I know, but we do want to be allowed back.” James took that moment to grin; several couples flinched back from them. “Good God this is nearly as bad as Mycroft.” Q muttered nearly out of hearing range. James just hummed and swiftly nipped Q’s neck in teasing reprimand. The omega had to cover up his squeak with embarrassed coughing, James grinning all the time.

The beta woman in charge of the class had arranged them all in a semi circle, pregnant mates situated in front of their partners and between their legs. Occasionally they changed position to practice things, but generally that was the status quo. James was perfectly happy with the arrangement as it gave him a legitimate excuse to keep Q flush against him.

Overall, the class had been fun.

“God, they expect me to turn into some kind of Satanist the instant a bloody contraction starts.” Q complained as they left, James keeping close as the group of to-be parents flocked out into the open of the car park.

“I’ll forgive you for bringing a shrine then shall I?” James teased, Q swatted at him but smiled.

“Don’t ‘anger the beast’ remember? Fatherhood’s golden rule.” Sufficiently away from other couples, but near enough that James still felt the possessive nature of his personality curling beneath the surface, he grabbed Q close and mouthed at his neck.

“I’d really rather rile him.” Q’s shudder at the low insinuation in rich tones was immensely satisfying, and James bit and sucked at his pale throat contentedly.

“Well, you can’t keep chewing on me if you want to carry on coming along to these.” James pulled back, surprised, Q’s voice sounded quite calm.

“Chewing?” He frowned. Q just fixed him with a look.

“For the last four days you’ve been latched onto my neck whenever you get the chance… Much as I appreciate the attention, I think we’re pushing the boundaries of social acceptability here hmm?” Q raised an eyebrow, still appearing amused, yet firm. James blinked away his surprise at the realisation that ‘chewing’ was a fairly accurate term and brushed it off with a growl.

“Social acceptability is overrated.” With that he ducked back in despite Q’s squawk and amused chuckle and bit away happily, hiding the minute sense of embarrassment, arms wrapped around Q. “At least compared to you.”

“Charmer.”

“Never doubt it.”

 

-00Q00-

 

Late pregnancy suited Q well, or so James thought at least. Or maybe it was just the part time work? Either way, the alpha was thoroughly enjoying himself.

“You better not be doing what I think your doing.” Q groaned one Saturday morning, not moving or opening his eyes. James just grinned.

“Might be.” Q’s moan of annoyance and sleepy flail to get his mate off were too entertaining to truly be a deterrent.

“Get _off_ ,” Q pleaded through a groan, pushing ineffectively at James’ shoulder. “No drawing on the belly!” Came the second demand.

“But I’m nearly done-“ Q growled a bit and sat up, dislodging the marker pen in James’ hand and nearly causing a stripe to go through his careful design. Q’s hand fell to the bed stroppily after attempting to force the thatch of his hair back.

“What, are you doing?” James sat back and nearly grinned through his pout, contemplating his work.

“You almost ruined it.” Q’s raised eyebrow showed entirely what he thought of the reprimand before casting unimpressed eyes downward.

By now, holding back his grin was impossible.

“You’ve drawn… a bingo sheet… on my stomach.” Evidently Q was non-plussed.

“A baby bingo sheet.” James corrected, grinning, judging by Q’s blank blinking, he was still less than impressed.

“I see.”

“No, look,” James reached out to trace the different sets of letters he’d written: ‘AF, AM, BF, BM, OF and OM’. “It’s a game. Each of the gender-sex combinations are written down in a box, whichever one the pup kicks at the most is what we’re going to have.” This time his amused expression met a more contemplative one as Q traced over his own marked belly.

James himself was pretty proud of his penmanship. Effectively he’d drawn a table on the belly of his pregnant partner, yes. But the idea had been too good to resist.

“That’s very chancy.” Q eventually stipulated. Patting the belly before him, James fixed on his most winning smile.

“What’s the sense in having all this belly and no fun with it?” Q ruffled a bit, waking up a bit more, but seemed to melt a bit at the amused light in James’ eyes. A smile was forced back from quirking lips.

“And what about the stars?”

“That means Rumbles wants to surprise us.”

“There are three stars, the odds of surprise are phenomenally higher than anything-“

“Just enjoy it Q.”

“You drew the table wrong didn’t you, nine boxes instead of six, the shame James.” But Q was smirking now, tracing fingers over his stomach and mapping out the pen strokes.

“I thought you liked surprises.” James teased, moving to graze teeth over Q’s ear.

“Not at the sake of numerical accuracy.” The half concealed bubble of pleasure in Q’s tone set James biting at his throat with a playful growl.

“Let me change your mind about that.”

With a growl from James and yelp from Q the alpha pinned his mate back on the bed to ravage his neck. The omega pushed him back, laughing, one hand on his belly, grinning mischievously.

“That’s one point for alpha female.” James grin-growled and pounced back to resume his attack with Q squeaking laughter.

Although the baby bingo went on to get smudged throughout the day and eventually washed off, the two managed to have possibly a bit too much fun with it for the interim.

“Mm! James Blasty’s moving again!” Q managed through a mouthful of biscuits. The alpha hurried over, picking up the thin snacks and laying one over each square in the table. “What are you doing?”

“Wait wait…” James finished, holding back laughter, and for a moment they both watched until a particularly violent kick dislodged the biscuit off the ‘omega male’ spot.

“Ten points for omega male!” James announced with a cheer, Q sat up with a squawk, dislodging the rest of the snacks in a crumbly shower.

“Ten points?!”

“He knocked over an entire biscuit, that’s got to count for more.” James answered simply. Q’s gaze lowered with a predator’s amusement.

“Ah, like that then is it?”

Not seconds later Q had formed stacks of biscuits on his belly and lay down with a grin.

“Cheater, you know his methods.”

“You’re the one inventing the game, I’m just out-playing you at it. Oh wait, three, two, one…” A stack toppled off ‘beta female’. “Ha! Twenty points for beta female! Quite a head start don’t you think?”

“It’s on, Q.”

“Oh try me.” They grinned, and proceeded to spend the rest of the day trying to out play each other in some bizarre game of demented bingo.

“So we’ve got the ring leader of surprise coming in at two hundred and fifty nine points…” Q summarised as they lay back in bed at night. James consulted the tally sheet.

“Followed by Beta male, omega female,”

“Alpha male, then female, beta female,”

“And omega male taking up the rear…” James smirked and Q swatted him.

“Don’t be crude… Well, there we go then.” James glanced over, surprised to see Q stroking his stomach with a very mild pout.

“What is it? You’re not upset are you?” Q shrugged, and then threw out a silly grin.

“No, not really, just thinking. Wondering.” James hummed in agreement, bringing his own hand over to rub Q’s belly and look up at him.

“Did you want Rumbles to be like you?” Q puffed out a breath.

“I hadn’t really thought much… I don’t know… Do you want Blasty to be like you?” Q asked, turning back to James. The alpha took a moment to think about it, shifting back comfortably, thumb stroking the firm bump of baby.

Did he want that? James pondered a moment on having a mini him romping around in his footsteps in a muddy field, teaching him to take aim, doing what his parents and Kincaid did for him. Damn. Had he even told Kincaid? Probably not, they were hardly ever in contact, maybe in a few weeks when he took Q up to Scotland.

But then… it wasn’t going to be a miniature of him, but Q too… Brown wavy hair replaced blonde in his mind, blue eyes remaining, glasses and mud streaks over a pouting face of determination as a gun was raised, tongue between teeth to focus on a line of bottles.

Q as an alpha… Q as an alpha child? A flash of Mycroft hit his mind and James shuddered a bit…

Or worse, a son turning and leaving, bag packed, running off into danger and fights and war. To the army or navy, far too bright and far too stubborn and far too precious. James shuddered anew.

“James?”

“Nothing, just thinking about the sort of work that draws young alphas.” Q’s face stoned a bit at that.

“We don’t know an alpha would be like that, they might have no desire to be dangerous at all…”

“They would be an alpha Q. It’s practically a prime function.” Q hummed a bit in reluctant agreement, fingers clenching a bit.

“Okay, okay that would be… yes. But, at least we’d know they could defend themselves, wouldn’t be as subject to another’s whim, just their own foolhardy mistakes…” James rolled his head over to flick his gaze over Q.

“Like an omega?”

“Mm.” James thought about that for a moment, visualising again bright blue eyes in Q’s face looking up at him shyly from under a heap of blankets, giggling, ducking away… Frightened, or crying, or following another alpha out the door. James growled a bit, hand tightening around the cup he was holding.

“They better not touch my pup. Young upstarts.” Q snorted and turned to James, laughter in his eyes and a smile on his face.

“Protective much?”

“You’re damn right. That’s my pup we’re talking about.” James grumbled, in his mind punching potential suitors in the face or growling them out of the house, Q either shaking his head in the background or merrily erasing their bank accounts.

“And no one will be good enough,” Q theorised softly.

“No.” He confirmed, and wrapped an arm around Q’s shoulders to pull him in tighter, curling his other hand further around swollen belly containing their pup. “They’ll have to go through me first.” Q chortled a bit gently.

“I fear the day.”

“So should they.” Q snorted again and snuggled closer, clinging on contentedly.

“I’m sure their quaking in their parents’ wombs.” Joking though they were, James knew that anything that came out alpha the agent would be paranoid of the decisions of. Anything omega protective of… anything that looked even vaguely like his Q, well, all bets were off.

_I’m keeping you safe. You’ll always be safe._ He promised, squeezing Q’s big belly gently. And feeling entirely too protective and loving for his sanity. The damn thing wasn’t even born yet and already giving James an aneurism.

 

-00Q00-

 

“So have yeh taken lots o’ pictures then?” James glanced at 0010, whom was meant to be doing his after action report, but instead had managed –with no great difficulty- to coerce his way onto the firing range instead. Alec had called James down there before they went to grab a bite at lunch, now the two older alphas were having a pseudo competition with the new blood.

It was going rather well for the more experienced agents. Although clearly Campbell was no poor shot, he didn’t quite have the adaptability reflexes yet. He would, in time, but for now it was far too much fun to come out on top. Alec was grinning like a madman too.

“Pictures?” James asked back, slotting a fresh clip into his gun. Alec glanced over, eyebrow raised.

“Of yeh mate o’ course! He’s nay gonna be plump forever y’know.” The answer was delivered with a vaguely incredulous expression and a tone that suggested James wasn’t being particularly bright. Alec hummed in thought as Bailey went on adjusting the specs on the rifle he was trying. After a brief moment the Scot continued with a shrug and carefree voice. “Unless yeh donnae like him plump and would sooner forget,”

“He’s right, James, what if he never lets you do this to him again?” Alec supplied helpfully with a grin as he slotted in a new magazine.

“You make it sound like I forced him at gunpoint.” James complained, but there was a smirk in his words. “For all I know Q would burn the evidence of any pictures.”

“Aye but he’s the quartermaster eh? Print out a paper copy ‘n I reckon he’ll nay ever find it.” Alec barked out a laugh.

“Hell _I’ll_ keep a copy if you want. Or help you take them. Hold him at gunpoint for you?”

“If I’d known there was this much interest I’d have put together a calendar to pay for the school fees.” James joked… even just the thought of Q’s face if he was decked out in a ‘Mr. April’ costume was nearly enough to make him break out a full grin.

“Seriously though, you should take some. If nothing else it’ll be good for blackmail.”

“Always planning ahead aren’t you?” James retorted dryly, Alec just grinned back as he readied for another shot.

“It is my day job.”

 

-00Q00-

 

Honestly, he should have known to expect trouble when James brought Alec home with him, as if his mate had just found the man wandering in the street and collected him. Q blamed the pregnancy brain and current shortness of breath he was having from moving some of the monitors around in his study. Surely that was the only reason he didn’t fully appreciate trouble until Alec produced a camera and flashed it right in his face.

He nearly fell over.

“Just what are you doing Double oh Six?” He demanded, tiredly. James intervened, growling and scooping Q up into his arms with a grin. Q yelped a bit in surprise and clung on until James swung around to face Alec who gleefully took a shot.

“Put me down, what’s happening? I don’t mind frivolity as long as I know what its about.” _God I sound like Mycroft._ Q cringed inwardly but tried to keep his expression set as he looked between the two alphas.

“Alec thought it would be a good idea to take pictures.”

“…Brilliant.”

“Double oh Ten too.” Alec added, though he did lower the camera a bit in a calming motion.

“Charming. Might I ask why?” James put him back on the floor and ran a hand under Q’s t-shirt over his belly.

“This. I don’t want to forget it.” Q met James’ eyes and there was a flash in the background.

“Perfect you two! Nice and romantic. Now, what about a pack shot?”

“A wha-“

“Come on love.” James guided Q around to sit on the sofa where he was squished by the two alphas after Alec set up the camera on the table.

“Say cheese!”

“You know I’ve heard some people get pregnancy shots done professionally.” Q muttered. James looked over his head and winked at Alec. “What are you-“ Alec chuckled and the flashing red timer light sped up and with seconds to spare both alphas fingers found his ribs and armpits, tickling mercilessly.

Q squawked with a shocked laugh and squirmed between the two inescapable overgrown children in helpless gasped laughter. In seconds the omega had given up any pretence of superiority and was begging for relief whenever he couldn’t find a nearby muscled arm to bite or push away, tears of laughter in his eyes.

James and Alec’s merciless commentary and ministrations soon left him in stitches and dissolved into some kind of pseudo wrestling play.

Alec somehow got James in a headlock whilst simultaneously capturing and tickling Q’s bare foot. Q laughed until he could seize and bite at the man’s arm, James’ having snaked under his own whilst the alpha’s legs manage to lock around Alec’s waist.

It was almost entirely novel for Q to play like that, he’d never done it in childhood and possibly enjoyed the very few times he and James, once Alec, had play wrestled in the past too much. It was also immensely freeing to realise just how unconcerned he could feel with two alphas growling and toying with him. Toying, because evidently Q didn’t stand a hope of winning, but the lack of competition was even more relaxing, somehow, and it was surprisingly invigorating to just let go and be. Just enjoy living in the moment.

Even when James evidently begun to feel possessive and ended all of Q’s giggling struggles with a victory-growling bite to the neck, rendering the omega limp reflexively at his mate’s dominance, there wasn’t an atom of him that was afraid, just floating on adrenalin and contact-hormones.

Slowly James pulled Q down on top of his chest and lay there on the sofa biting and mouthing possessively. Q may have gone a little weak-limbed from the claiming attention. Ever since they had reunited after the hospital and Mallory’s, James had been almost obsessive in his need to reclaim Q with scent and marks.

To be honest, Q maybe loved it a bit. He _needed_ it, even.

The fact that Alec just accepted his friend’s alpha needs and lounged back to turn the telly on made Q feel impossibly relaxed, bearing his neck to give James more access whilst simultaneously watching TV.

_You’re going to have a good pack, little pup._ Q thought, smiling softly to himself as Alec laughed at the television and his hands stroked over James’ on his belly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here Bond earns his overprotective tag xD bless that was too much fun to write! Hope you all enjoyed and thank you for all your support and comments and kudosing and reading. Love you all!  
> Ciao for now :3
> 
> P.S. I might update the Young Holmes Extras if I can't get this one out on time, since I've written quite a lot of them now! For any who need the link, they can be found here: http://shadyquiet.tumblr.com/  
> Enjoy!


	41. H0: With grace and decorum (Q wishes); H1: Waddling has its merits (James Bond thinks).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all, have chapter! Sorry, as ever, for the wait *offers nest*

Finally, Q thought he might be the one finding the pregnancy classes most useful. He knew about hospitals. He knew about labour from the frightening books of horror and pain. He knew about labour drugs and their cost/benefits. He even knew some relaxation techniques and what to expect.

But this? This was useful.

“In this bag, and you should aim to not need more than a bag or two this size for your own convenience at the time, contains a good average of what every labouring parent needs.” Explained Carolyn, _with a ‘y’_ , their resident midwife teacher.

One hand shot up from the crowd, Q refrained from rolling his eyes with difficulty, though his mouth thinned considerably. Given he had brought Mycroft, he shouldn’t complain, but this one couple seemed intent on out-doing the entire group. By looks alone, it would appear.

“Are you only going to show us generic items? Aren’t needs different for each gender and sex?” The velvet-voiced woman drawled out artfully. Her pregnant mate, an also rather attractive and laid back omega female lounged against her equally beautiful female alpha, both smirking. The dark haired and pale-skinned alpha looked awfully familiar, and kept shooting looks of pure temptation over at the pair of them. It set Q on edge. Not the least because he had to admit that they were both far too attractive and well presented to make him feel anything other than blimp-like. The auburn haired omega in particular set him off, with her easy attitude and appearing to be in no discomfort whatsoever. Really, the world was just too cruel.

James’ hand tapped gently on his belly as if reminding him to be calm, but Q couldn’t help feeling righteous anger. _He_ was currently in a position that relied entirely on James’ support to ensure he stayed vaguely upright and not on his back like a flipped tortoise or beached whale. _They_ were just making it look bloody easy!

“Calm, Q.” Q huffed petulantly.

“These items are what every couple should have at least as a decent base, any individual items or needs are often known best by individual people. Although if you are struggling or require specific help, as always you can talk to me after or your own midwife.”

“Thank you.” The woman graciously replied, all the while sounding calm and in control. She was no more suave than James, or more sensual… but she did have a certain way about her. And they both appeared far too entertained and relaxed.

“Show offs.” Q muttered sullenly. James poked him in a ticklish enough spot to make Q yelp and flush in embarrassment. Several other couples chuckled, mostly alphas, and James looked far too pleased with himself at his gentle reprimand, smirking down at his omega with a devilishly tantalising smile.

“Be nice, love.” He murmured. Q ruffled and shrugged off James’ attempt to kiss his neck petulantly. It was uncomfortably warm, and Q was aching, and he felt…fat.

Which was ridiculous, and yet he was fat.

_Oh dear god, don’t let me cry again. Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry-_ The mantra helped get him through a bit, as did James easing his hold into something more gentle. The movement of his mate made Q feel just a bit pathetic, but he wanted to listen to this information and he was barely able to concentrate.

“Okay so, either separate your bag into two sections, or-“ Carol _y_ n produced a second bag from behind the table with the attitude of a magician pulling a rabbit from a hat. “-just bring two smaller bags!”

There didn’t seem to be too many impressed faces, but there were a few indulgent grins.

“One you want for what you need during labour, and one for afterwards. The hospital will provide you with some items, but it’s always good to be prepared. You’ll want these packed and ready to go at a moments notice from anywhere around eight months.”

“Simple things; ID, birth plan if you’ve developed one-“ Q subtly recorded the spiel on his phone in case he forgot anything. James was attentive to the list as well, but Q wasn’t taking any chances.

Spare clothes, of the kind that allowed a baby to drop out at any given moment and allowed doctor’s easy access… not something he had but easy enough to find. Comfortable things for warmth and walking around… Q hoped for a moment, even with all the recent knowledge he had that you could never completely plan labour, that it would be over quick enough for him to not have to walk the corridors of a hospital out of sheer boredom whilst a pup was trying to push out of him. Also on the list was music, something to read, comforting things, all of which made sense. James, however, chose that moment to raise his hand calmly.

“Yes?” Q glanced back at his mate, and didn’t miss the subtle flicker of his eyes over to the female alpha, whose body rippled subtly in interest at the competition in the blue gaze.

“What about nesting items. Will they be provided or should we bring our own?”

“The hospital will provide nesting items if you’ve organised in advance, or it becomes needed for whatever reason, but bringing your own is certainly beneficial if you might want them. As long as you’re willing to risk dirt, the smell of home can do wonders for the nerves.”

James settled back contentedly, and Q snuggled back a bit subtly, feeling much better all of a sudden that James would have been thinking about this. This time he allowed James to kiss his neck only too happily, feeling one lethal hand firmly stroking up and down his flank as if to ground him.

_At least James knows how to deal with high-pressure situations._ Q thought with an inner smirk, imagining James tamping down on all reaction the instant Q began swearing at him and reverting to mission mode. Hopefully that wouldn’t happen, but at least James would be able to handle it.

“Partners, don’t forget to pack for yourselves as well. You could be there for a good few days. And definitely don’t forget a camera!” At the suggestion Q turned to look at James, who seemed equally surprised.

Neither of them had really thought of cameras, pictures. Other than James and Alec’s surprise entrance the other day.

“Huh.”

“Hmm.”

That was something for the to do list then.

The remainder of the lesson passed without too much mishap. One man began crying when he realised that he hadn’t brought any socks for a newborn yet… which set off another woman into tears of excitement. James managed to be calm through the scene, only tightening his grip slightly in a way Q decided to take as gratitude for remaining tear-free.

With the class over the pair hurried casually out the doors before they could be wrangled into the midst of the crying couples. Q remembered vaguely that he was meant to be making friends at these classes so as to not go through raising a child without sympathetic ears, but he honestly couldn’t stand the thought of aligning himself with the other couples out of desperation. No, he’d just suffer alone. Well, alone with his pack. After all, Sherlock and John were meeting them right outside for another dinner and film evening.

“Excuse me,” James turned quicker than Q, invisibly protective in stance. Strutting up to them were the two women from the meeting, dark haired alpha just in front of…

_Are those heels?!_ Q was so distracted staring in muted horror at the pregnant woman’s footwear that he completely missed why they’d been stopped. Alpha female was smirking in a teasing way as omega female laughed softly, near silently, but more cheekily amused than cruel.

“My Kate was just wondering where you found that gorgeous coat.” The alpha asked, whole voice a caress as she gestured and just brushed the seam of Q’s black winter coat.

Surprisingly, James only growled in warning and she retracted her hand calmly, deep purple nail varnish glinting. Q wondered for a bit if he’d been momentarily stunned.

“Oh, um, one of those shops on Regent Street.” James took this moment to look physically pained at his mate’s dire lack of fashion knowledge and ‘Kate’ slipped forwards sveltely in a way that was hugely unfair.

“I wasn’t only curious about the coat really, we just wanted an excuse to talk to you both.”

“…Right.” Q replied vaguely, eyes squinting a little as he tried to read the pair of them like his brothers would.

“Oh, now _that’s_ a look I’ve seen before. Although I must say I prefer the original.”

By this time they were both frowning, in some mixture of curiosity and suspicion. Q opened his mouth to ask a question to the pair of women at nearly the same time as James, but someone else beat them to it.

“The Woman!” Q spun to see Sherlock stopped dead, his dramatic voice stunned and impressed all at once. John paused beside him and was blinking at the pair of them.

“Christ, I didn’t see that one coming. Hello you two.” The doctor nodded over to James and Q whilst Sherlock remained in his best poker-impersonation.

“John.” James greeted. Q just sighed in resignation, of course, it had something to do with his brothers, when didn’t it?

“Hello.” He replied vaguely and moved aside to check his phone, keeping one eye on Sherlock and ‘The Woman’ circling each other with some bizarre and vaguely disturbing type of predatory lust. John had rolled his eyes and moved over towards James, who was eyeing the situation like the easily entertained double-oh agent he was.

To Q’s surprise, he was joined by the female omega, comfortably elegant and gorgeously dressed.

“They did this the last time too, very odd, even for Irene’s usuals.” Q took in her lightly crossed arms and calm attitude, clearly not in the least bit worried by the nearly fraught sexual tension around the others. Q glanced her up and down once more and then looked over at John, who had a bit of a tense line around his jaw, though it looked more like impatience than anything.

“Right, excuse me.” Q replied distractedly, and replaced his phone in pocket to walk past James and John up to his brother. Casually as he could Q slipped between the pair of them, tilting his head to Sherlock’s ear out of lip-reading sight.

“Do I need to ask James to escort them off the premises or are you going to handle this?” Sherlock growled a little and turned his head enough to disguise his words. Irene looked only amused by the proceedings. James watched keenly in the background whilst also keeping subtly in front of John to prevent the beta doing anything rash in public.

“I’ll handle it.” Sherlock ground out, silent as a breath.

“Then do. John’s not taking it very well.” The middle Holmes brother’s eyes swung over to his doctor, and nodded once, shortly. Q stepped away, only to be paused with a light cough from the female alpha.

“Distractions aside, we really did want to spend more time together. What with the pups on the way.” She nodded at both Q and her mate’s stomachs. Turning his gaze to James the omega silently questioned his mate. The returning blue stare was deep, calm, and entirely filled with whatever years of experience James had at reading people.

There was something, some distance to keep… but also, Q had to admit he was curious.

“We’re all going off to dinner.” Q mentioned, still looking at James for a moment before he turned back to Irene’s vixen eyes. “Care to join?”

“Just try and stop us.” She purred, smiling over at her mate.

“Oh good, that’s decided then. We’ll be in national warfare by this evening.” John complained sarcastically from the background, though he moved closer to Sherlock and out the exit none the less. To Q’s surprise his beta brother grabbed the doctor’s hand and pulled him in for a swift, bruising kiss. John looked surprised but pleased. James smirked as Q blinked, slowly moving over to wind an arm around his omega.

“I didn’t know your brother had the ability to pull.” Q blew out a baffled breath, entirely aware suddenly of just how much of Sherlock’s life he had missed in the interim, and silently sending Mycroft a text.

_-Irene?-_

“Never underestimate Sherlock.” He replied, still puzzled. The assorted group left the building and headed for the cab the two betas had hailed from. Fitting in everyone, plus two pregnant omegas, was a bit of a squeeze, but James possessively pulled Q onto his lap, leaving just enough seats.

Q leaned back and shifted against his living cushion, feeling the familiar comfort of James’ muscles shifting underneath him.

“So, pregnant.” Sherlock observed, looking between the smiling Kate and smirking Irene. Q had the sudden urge to throw the two women in a room with Eve and see if they managed to plot world domination or tear each other apart.

“You’re not the only one with a partner in crime, Mr. Holmes.” Irene responded, and Sherlock raised his chin with an almost impressed look. John caught the auburn-haired woman’s eyes and they contemplated each other for a moment, before their expressions softened nearly to the point of rolling eyes at each other. Regardless, they both moved possessively closer to their respective partners.

Q’s phone buzzed and he retrieved it, glancing at the screen and feeling James read the message over his shoulder invisibly.

_-Declawed. But the cat still has fangs.-_ James tapped his finger in amusement before drawing his attention to the women.

“Suddenly I feel left out, we know nothing about you other than a due date.” Irene smirked over in James’ direction, expression as sultry as ever.

“Oh I wouldn’t say that, surely you could deduce more, being a part of this family.”

Q caught the lethality of James’ intrigued and amused smirk in the mirror, and bit his lip to keep from laughing. Well, if this _‘Irene’_ didn’t know who James Bond truly was, Q felt entirely more secure.

“Possibly, but I’d rather we kept things civilised.” The smile James received was rather interested and…charmed? Really, women were a mystery that would never cease.

_-Trouble at mill?-_ Q texted back, subtly. The reply was nearly instant.

_-Not as long as John kissed Sherlock before she did.-_

_-Sherlock kissed John, actually.-_

_-My my, we are improving. Keep me posted wont you.-_

The fact that it wasn’t even phrased as a question made Q snort a little to himself. The others were engaged in some sort of five-way rapid-fire banter that spun Q’s head a little. James’ sarcasm and John’s droll comments were far too amusing amongst Irene and Sherlock’s fierce battle of wills.

“I simply hadn’t figured you for the mothering type.” Sherlock pontificated, voice childish and imperious in a way it only usually was with Mycroft of all people.

“Might be something to do with the whole sex dungeon thing.” John added nonchalantly.

“Sex dungeon hmm?” James all but purred, slipping his hands further around Q’s stomach. “Can we get one love?”

“No.” Kate laughed in her silent way at the definitive from Q, who gave himself points.

“Not even a small one?”

“We don’t have the room, I’ve already decorated the house once.”

“We have a basement.”

“I need a study. You need a study. There’s no room for a sex dungeon.”

“Oh darling, you’d be surprised how little space you need.” Irene smirked over, clearly having too much fun.

“Yes well if one party is tied up then that does increase the available room.” Sherlock half-sneered, but his eyes were playful.

“Mirrors.” John burst out with. “Makes a room look bigger don’t you know.” James smiled devilishly.

“Sounds like someone else has been giving this some thought.”

Both John and Sherlock _blushed_. Q burst out laughing and found it quite hard to stop, tears catching in his eyes as James rumbled a quiet growl of pleasure at the sound, hands stroking up and down the omega’s side.

“So as I was saying, I’m perfectly capable of mothering. Some of my clients could tell you for themselves.” She grinned; Kate smirked at her knowingly as they shared a moment of amusement. John looked slightly out of his depth and Sherlock was rapidly pulling himself back together.

“And besides, nine months with an extremely sensitive body, how could I resist?” The two women’s gaze met somewhere between love and desire before James decided to pipe up again.

“Sex?” John chocked and Sherlock spun around outraged, Q burst out with another bark of laughter.

“Sex of the pup Sherlock.” Q informed, watching his brother scowl before piquing in interest.

“A surprise, of course.” Kate supplied, stroking her stomach. “You?”

“Same.” Q nodded, patting his own belly above James’ hand. John frowned for a moment, gaze narrowing in contemplation.

“How… do you decide what colour to buy their clothes in?”

That wasn’t something Q had thought of yet either… They should really make a to-do list at some point. He wondered if James would confiscate his phone should he try to make a spreadsheet during the movie.

 

-00Q00-

 

“Mmnnsgnhh-“ James was growing more accustomed to being disturbed or woken at such noises. They’d been attempting to tame the garden, though why it had seemed a good idea at the time had escaped him. James knew nothing about gardens or gardening, but had spent the last two hours trying to decide what was a weed and what wasn’t. Generally the garden looked more destroyed than anything, and the wet weather they’d been having didn’t help.

At Q’s animalistic groan James turned and dropped the knife he’d been using behind him.

“Q?”

“James!” Q called in a pleading kind of moan. “Help me.” Chuckling at the disgruntled and demanding tone the alpha went over to behind a set of rather exuberant grasses.

“Love- are you alright?” Q was on his back in the mud, covered in earth and scratched by some nasty thorny looking plants that were tangled in his hair.

“I fell over.” Q announced miserably with none of his usual pride, and simply held up his arms in silent demand for assistance. James was only too quick to comply, swallowing back any warnings of care. Unfortunately the alpha was getting increasingly worried about his mate.

Q was extremely precious to him; he loved the man more ways than he could count. His mate was now carrying their pup… and was even clumsier than he used to be in the mornings. This combined with bouts of dizziness and the unnerving looseness of the ligaments in his mate’s hips served to make Q a walking self-health hazard.

James just didn’t know what more he could do to keep Q from hurting himself save tying him to the bed, which wasn’t an option without incurring serious ire.

“Here, are you hurt?” James murmured, going over and sitting Q up, wiping some of the mud off his cheek and revealing a thorn-scratch beneath.

“I think my pride may be wounded.”

“Does it need stitches?” James was only half thinking about his mate’s inner suffering and half about the small, thin and probably stinging cuts on gorgeous face.

“It may have suffered a mortal blow.” Q affirmed seriously. James kissed his temple and then shifted his arms under Q’s knees and around his back. “You don’t-“

“Shh shh.” Q heeded the soft shushing and submitted himself to being carried back into the house. It was growing dark anyway, and James wanted nothing more than to get his mate clean and cosy. _That_ much, he _could_ do.

“Are you alright, James?” Q asked when the alpha finally set him down and proceeded to draw a bath. James, in a fit of protectiveness gone rampant, grumbled and lifted Q enough to remove muddy clothes and then heaped some towels by the radiator to sit him on.

“You keep hurting yourself.” He complained quietly, dangerously close to loosing his control at all the damage that had befallen Q these past seven months. The fingers of one hand skated over the barely visible white circle scar on Q’s wrist from where he’d been chained up to the ceiling and left to hang. “I hate it.” Q blinked at him for a moment, surprised.

“I’m sorry.” He offered, reaching to stroke James’ cheek. “I can try to be more careful-“

“I know you can’t help it, just… Can I get you something? Do you need anything?” A small smile tilted Q’s lips.

“You’re becoming mother hen-ish now? Usually that’s at the beginning or the end.” Q teased gently. James brought both hands to Q’s stomach and held the bump gently, lifting it a little, feeling the weight of their pup in there.

“It nearly is the end Q. You could have the pup as soon as six weeks from now. I can’t… nothing can happen now. Not to you or Rumbles.” Q watched him calmly, thumb stroking, and James wished he could ensure everything went fine, wanted the power to keep Q safe.

“Nothing will happen, darling. We’re both very happy and healthy. The doctor said so last week. He’ll say it again next week.”

“I know.” He did know, and was largely aware of his overreaction, such a switch from the beginning of the pregnancy, where Q was the one having paranoia. He might not be able to do anything about things beyond his power, but he could still do everything else that Q needed. He needed to. “Are you sure you don’t need anything?”

Q frowned thoughtfully as if he could read James’ mind, the alpha wished he had a similar sense to pick up on all Q’s wants and needs right now.

“I’m a bit thirsty, and a bit cold.” He offered eventually. The relief about having something to actually act on was indescribable.

“Just wait right here.” He grinned, kissing Q on the mouth. He returned with water and swiftly cleaned Q’s scratches before helping the omega into the bath where he’d be warm. Of course he insisted on cleaning Q himself, and drying him, and wrapping him up in the most comfortable pyjamas he could find and bundling them both under blankets on the sofa.

“Are you hungry?” He asked, settling down next to Q despite the question. His mate turned and curled into him with a contented hum.

“In a bit.” James still had that niggling urge to help, to provide, and at a loss of anything else pulled Q’s feet into his lap and began massaging them slowly.

Q all but melted onto his back, a look of utter nirvana transcending over his face and encouraging moans escaping him.

“My god, you’re bloody wasted in spy work, become my masseuse.” Q commanded, adorably in James’ opinion as he waved an arm around imperiously.

“Then I’d have to charge you.” James pointed out.

“Okay, maybe not then, this is perfect.” Q hastily decided; voice still caught in ecstasy over the foot rub. James’ eyes raked over Q’s figure, relaxed and in soft clothes, belly poking through his t-shirt to reveal a the swell of their pup, peaceful smile on his face. It was an image he wanted to commit to memory forever.

 

-00Q00-

 

Monday had seemed like a perfectly normal day, in James’ opinion, right up until the point where Q returned home. There had been some equipment for Q to hand out in the evening following a mission cover that ran over slightly. The alpha would have stayed for Q’s evening shift but he had been out of office collaborating with MI5 intelligence for the day.

Always a bit of a piss take, given that neither MI5 nor 6 ever _wanted_ to collaborate intelligence when the nation wasn’t at stake. Still, James had enjoyed the subtle plays and temptations he could use to wheedle out the information.

It was far too amusing just how much better he was at it after just a few months spent observing Q’s brothers. He’d always been excellent, yes, but now the man felt positively lethal at his job with all the new techniques he had been dying to employ.

All in all, a satisfying day. James was just using his euphoria as motivation to cook Q a delicious dinner, when the door slammed open and Q stomped upstairs with barley a word.

“I’m back, I’m having a shower.” Q called, not pausing once and voice tinged with steel and…tears?

_Not the book again?_ James panicked for a moment, blindly, having no idea what could have possibly given Q a reason to be angry at him without even seeing the man all day.

Hurriedly the alpha took the water off the boil and set his chopping knife down, wiping hands perfunctorily on a tea towel before following the direction Q had bolted.

_Maybe he’s ill again, or, Mycroft?_ There wasn’t much point in calculating what he didn’t know, but when it came to Q James could rarely help it.

Up the stairs two at a time James followed the scent of Q to their bedroom, where the nearly hidden sound of hitched breath over running water made him freeze for a moment. Slowly, with a deep breath to regain his calm from the flood of righteous protective fury –and a little panic that this was about him- the agent approached the bathroom door to knock.

“Q? Love?” there was another hitched breath followed with a barely restrained sob, but it sounded… more annoyed than aggrieved.

James grimaced a bit to himself. Want a family though he did, and love Q being pregnant though he did, he despised that these seven months had taught him to recognise and identify the tempo of Q’s tears with such startling accuracy. Even if it was useful.

“What’s happened?” There was a pause of shuddering breaths where James prepared himself for Q not to answer, but after a moment it came. Not quite what he’d been expecting, either.

“I-I’m _fat_!” At Q’s confused and embarrassed, hurt, wail, James took a step back.

They’d made jokes, James was always making a point to touch and praise Q’s body. Q was also a very practical person, when not ferreting wild theories down the rabbit warren of his mind. He honestly hadn’t expected this.

“What?” He asked, a shocked laugh coming out to shake the word a little bit. And it was laughable that Q could call himself that, even whilst his stomach preceded him into rooms. Maybe not the most tactful response, but James’ brilliant people skills failed him in one stunned swoop.

“I’m w, _waddling_.” Q managed to force out, almost angry at the situation…

It probably didn’t help that James took the moment to purr in satisfaction for getting Q pregnant enough to waddle, full of pup. Q threw a selection of toiletries at the door with an aggrieved noise of outrage.

“Sorry, sorry.” James hurried, backtracking. “Can I,” He paused for a moment, but rather than beg in his own house to be let in, simply grabbed a lock pick –they were lying around everywhere in their house in strategic locations- and broke in.

Q turned from in front of the mirror, shocked and wide-eyed for a moment and utterly naked in the steaming room, before rolling his gaze and huffing in a turn away from his reflection.

There were many moments in James’ long and diverse career as a spy that had taught him to let the other person make the first move. On top of that, he had found nearly universally, that if you simply waited with a simple touch in the right way, a person with a lot on their minds became unable to resist the temptation of sharing it with you.

Ghosting closer to Q until he could run fingertips with a feather-touch up a tensely coiled flank, James ducked his head in to press lips in a faint kiss on the omega’s shoulder. Looking beyond them to their reflections in the gently steaming mirror, James wondered what on earth Q could see that looked _wrong_ about this.

For about a minute Q held onto his tension before slowly relaxing with a series of shaky breaths, turning his head into James’ hair slightly as the man pressed kissed up towards his neck.

“I was walking along a corridor with M and 001, mission preparation and… I couldn’t, keep up.” Q finished with no small amount of shame. James pulled the more relaxed body against him, sliding a hand around under Q’s belly and meeting the younger man’s eyes in the mirror.

“Did they give you a hard time?” He asked, voice low and barely hiding the dangerous edge. Q huffed and shook his head.

“No but,” with a sigh Q raked a hand over his face and hair. “I don’t like waddling, I feel fat. I don’t, I don’t like it.” Tears were starting to catch at Q’s voice again. James wasn’t entirely sure what to do. He couldn’t tell Q ‘it’ll be over soon’ or ‘you’re perfect to me’ without sounding placating. Instead the alpha settled for turning Q gently and capturing his lips in a long kiss that he hoped explained his stance a bit better. Q, at least, seemed to have no qualms about being kissed, and almost threw himself into it before James slowed him down.

_Better come out soon pup, I think your mum needs a break._ James thought at their unborn pup as he smoothed hands up and down Q’s steam-damp back, feeling their pup rumble safe and sound between them.

A part of him didn’t want it to end at all, but a much bigger part wanted to finally meet the pup, hold them, watch Q holding them…

_Not a bad thought at all_. James considered, smirking into the kiss as Q managed to laugh off the remainder of his tension gently.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed and are having a spiffing time! My delay was due to holiday, as feared... I should really stop making promises!
> 
> Anyway hopefully this chapter was enjoyable. I know Irene Adler is a character with... shall we say controversy sparking tendencies? But in this verse I can promise there was never/will never be sexual/romantic relations between her and Sherlock, though granted they do share a particular fascination with each other. Plus, I loved Kate, and I love the idea of her and Irene as secretly being a couple like John and Sherlock x3 So hopefully there's no major issues with them worming their way in!  
> Plus, I realised, Q really has no pregnant friends otherwise! That's one of the points to those classes, I seem to remember... Anywho! Thank you for reading and drop a line if you liked! Thank you to all commenters and kudosers from last chapter, you bring MUCH joy and dancing! :D
> 
> Till next time folks!  
> (Plus eeep! So excited we're nearly there xD *flail-dances*)


	42. H0: Entirely prepared; H1: Preparation in progress

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Iiii think I'm early! *dances*  
> Enjoy my beauties!

“How have you been feeling?” Q was starting to get a little sick of the question, though he knew it was important.

“Fine, generally. A bit sore, tired.” Strangely it was almost the exact same way his doctor’s appointment had gone on Tuesday. M smiled knowingly.

“Pup keeping you up?”

“Amongst other things.” Q sighed with a tired smile. If it wasn’t Blasty deciding to check the spread of his waterbed into his incubator’s innards, it was his bladder or leg cramps. M nodded again as Q shuffled papers.

No longer did the omega perch on his boss’ desk to hand over reports. No, he had a chair now. An appallingly comfortable chair that was a pain to get out of.

“Have you thought of any names yet? Daniel’s been badgered with several suggestions from the children.” The smile on M’s face showed Q the man might just be enjoying himself a bit too much about his mate’s situation. To be fair, picturing Mathew and Beth poking their heads into the kitchen at any given moment whilst Daniel was cooking to shout names at him was really quite entertaining… Especially adding Daniel’s ire into the image, and Stewie gleefully suggesting ‘Nuluh’ and ‘Imba’ at every given opportunity.

“My apologies.” M waved a hand, though he could see Q trying not to smile.

“Not to worry, they’ll grow out of it.”

Q tried not to make it too obvious when, as their meeting ended and he tried to not waddle out, he added ‘BABY NAMES’ to his already extensive ‘to do’ list. He sighed, scrolling through the spreadsheet whilst on the trip down to Q-branch, fretting over how much they still had to get.

He had no baby things. Daniel, his only baby-consultant, couldn’t possibly lend him anything because Stewie was still using a good portion of it. Money wasn’t an issue, but time certainly was, and Q barely knew how to start.

“Morning Quartermaster.” Tanner engaged with, getting into the lift. “I was just looking for you,”

“Did you happen to have a bassinet with you? I do need one ever so much and yet I’m not quite sure what they are…” Q interrupted vaguely, thoughts swirling around the list as it kept scrolling on. Dear god, it was beginning to look impossible. Tanner frowned, surprised out of his train of thought and glanced over.

“That’s everything you need?”

“Mmm.” Tanner frowned deeper.

“Isn’t that why you have baby showers, so people give you that sort of thing? That’s what Melissa says anyway when her sister-“

“Melissa?” Q shot over, forgetting about the list entirely and grinning wildly. Tanner frowned and blushed, bless the man.

“Yes, I’d thank you not to tell anyone, we’re still quite new.”

“Not a word.” Q smiled, leaning back against the wall and watching his friend with not a bit of sappy happiness for him. “Now, tell me what you know about these gift-brining ceremonies.” Tanner swiftly shook his head, hands raised.

“Oh no, you’d be better off asking Eve something like that, I only know the hear-say.”

“Hmm, thank you, Tanner. Where those some reports?”

“Yes, we need a break down on the weaponry used by that drug cartel on 001’s last mission, here’s the file.”

Q looked through the report and followed up in branch, researching and cataloguing, tracing the different weapons and ammunitions as best he could to find their sources. After setting a team of three to finalise the task and mock-up the report for a final read-through, Q went in search of Eve for lunch break, texting James along the way.

_-Have found answers to life’s problems. Involves getting people to bring us baby gifts whilst we ply them with wine and cake. What do you think?-_

James was still in the MI5 meetings this week, but managed a swift reply nonetheless. Probably bored.

_-Knew I mated you for a reason. What’s the plan?-_

_-On route to Eve, will report back with preliminary investigation.-_

The sooner they could whip something up the better really, Christmas was soon and James was starting the new recruitment training mid-January. Before that they had a week’s holiday in Scotland from December 31st and then it would really be the countdown, doctor appointments every week and preparing for the big event. Hopefully, Eve would be in the party-planning mood.

“Ohh yes!” Eve crooned when propositioned with the mere words ‘I was thinking about baby showers’ on their joint lunch in the cafeteria. “Of course, you’ll need two.” Q just blinked in surprise.

“Two?”

“Of course!” Eve beamed, face lighting up in delighted mischief at the thought of being in charge. “One for family and friends, and one for work.” Q scoffed a little.

“I can’t possibly ask people from work to give me things. And isn’t two pretentious?”

“You can’t merge them because of the potential security risks.” Eve pointed out.

“Ah.”

“Exactly. So, no, you let me plan this, anybody who doesn’t want to give a gift simple wont come, there are plenty of non-expensive items that people can buy… let me see your list.”

Somewhat reluctantly, Q handed over the phone. Eve’s widening eyes didn’t exactly relieve his panic.

“We’ve, uh, been a bit busy. New house and all. And, things.” Eve looked up and halted his mutterings with a slightly scandalised expression.

“You haven’t even brought any clothes yet? How could you not? Baby clothes are irresistible!” Q shuffled a bit uneasily.

“No need to rub it in.” Eve’s look softened a bit sympathetically.

“Actually, it might be a good thing, people will love to give clothes, they’re the most fun…” She continued scrolling down the list, smile widening. “Oh yes, Mycroft’s going to be _thrilled_.” Q gulped a bit, wondering just what he’d let himself in for.

“Don’t you worry a bit, gorgeous, leave it to me. Now, when do I get to cop a feel?” She said, giving the phone back and waggling her fingers suggestively. Q huffed a laugh and pushed his chair back, simply grateful to be asked for a change. And also glad of their private corner behind the large potted plants.

“If you’re quick, you’ll catch a movement.” Eve practically squeaked and rushed over, hands remaining mesmerised over his bump as Blasty swished and rolled a bit before kicking.

“Feisty!”

“Sometimes too feisty.” Q replied with a raised eyebrow. Eve chuckled.

“Well I can’t wait to meet you little one. Don’t worry, we’ll throw you a nice party.” Q smiled at her sentiment, doubting very much whether he’d get a better turn out should he plan the shower himself for a year rather than giving Eve one or two weeks.

 

-00Q00-

 

Their final pre-natal class wrapped up with plenty of well wishing on Thursday. James was eager to get Q home, given that it was pretty cold outside now and, for some reason, they had decided to host Christmas and needed to decorate.

“Thank you everyone so much for coming, hope you enjoyed these classes, and best of luck for you and your pups, oh and of course merry Christmas!”

James helped hoist Q back to his feet. He would never dream of saying it, but Q was becoming a bit, well, heavy. The alpha would still much rather risk putting his back out than Q’s though, so he was only too happy to heft his increasingly large and always gorgeous mate around… It just took more of a run up these days.

“Thank you.” Q admitted, a bit bashfully, reaching to twine their hands together, and James smiled as they begun their rather slow way out. Not many other pregnant individuals in the room were any better, but Q had definitely started to waddle a little. Just a little, just not quite as fluid as usual. James loved it as much as it entertained him. He couldn’t wait to show Alec, who would be staying with them from the weekend.

Beside them Irene and Kate settled into place. Q seemed a bit more relaxed when this week the pregnant woman wasn’t wearing her heels.

“Sherlock tells me you’re hosting Christmas this year. Should we pop round for drinks at some point?” Irene purred. James looked at Q to measure whether the man was comfortable with this, but he just shrugged.

“I’m sure that would be fine.” Q responded easily, James nodded and smiled challengingly at the other alpha.

“Of course, you do realise we’ll have both the brothers over.” Adler blinked in surprise that he needed to confirm this, Kate looking on curiously.

“Yes.”

“And I will be making it my personal responsibility to get them both so sodding drunk that they can’t win at monopoly.” Light dawned in their eyes.

“With a proposition like that, James, how could we stay away?”

“I hope you have enough board games to go round.” Kate added laughingly. Q smirked beside them. There was something… _feral_ about it that unnerved James a little in the best of ways.

“Don’t worry, I’ve asked Sherlock to bring over his Cluedo set. And Mycroft’s bringing risk.”

“Good god.” James muttered, as their two unexpected friends laughed beside them.

Really, the girls weren’t too bad at all. Fierce and bright, loyal to each other and playful, always game for a laugh. James had been thoroughly and pleasantly surprised by them.

“We’ll be there.” Irene confirmed, a whole weight of mirth in her eyes.

 

-00Q00-

 

With their Christmas guest list expanding, not a week left to go, and Alec arriving the next day, Friday became a bit of an endeavour in Christmas spirit.

Q had spent the morning shift at work and James had slipped out unnoticed along with him. Together, they had braved the danger that was tree shopping. A pursuit that seemed much more expensive than what James remembered from his youth. Of course, finding a pine tree was not a challenging feat in Scotland. Fortunately with Q’s eye and ability to force some sense into James’ ideas of grandeur, they ended up with a tree that just fit into their living room.

True, there wasn’t much room to get past it and the sofa, but James liked the effect anyway… However, tree hunting was one thing, quite a fun pursuit, but that was just the beginning.

“What on earth are we going to put on the damn thing?”

“Well I hear tinsel and baubles are traditional.” James snorted and rolled his eyes, nudging Q lightly.

“Very bloody funny, but do we actually have any? Last year you stole-“

“Borrowed.”

“ _Stole_ -you never gave it back! The tree from work, complete with decorations.” Q smiled fondly at the memory, rubbing his stomach idly.

“Ah yes, I had forgotten where the rumour I was the descended from Scrooge came from.” The alpha was hard pressed not to laugh, but did crack a grin.

“Of course, there wouldn’t be any clue in them seeing you frustatedly dragging a jangling tree throughout the entirety of Q branch and out of the building.” Q pushed him a little with a grin.

“Well you were suddenly home for Christmas, and I’d been at work all month. I had to do _something_ before you came back. For all I knew you were expecting a party.” James chuckled at his mate’s hyperbole.

“Regardless, do we actually have any decorations left?”

“I ordered some.” Q replied airily, waving a hand absently. The tone did anything but reassure James.

“You ordered some.”

“Yes.” Q sounded entirely too pleased with himself, and a little excited. “Well, ordered some, made some, modified a couple…”

“Are we still going to have a house?”

“You’ll like them! They’re very festive.” Q replied smugly. “And we should have more than enough to suffice.”

“Tell me again why I’m worried.” He grinned, but there was an element of nerves in there.

“Oh hush, its not like I weaponised the damn thing.”

“I’m amazed.”

“You would be…” Q turned away to go to one of the closets. “And I was tempted, but then I remembered Alec would be with us and I did really spend quite a lot of time decorating.” Q added, pulling open the closet door from under the stairs and revealing a positive myriad of labelled cardboard boxes proclaiming everything from ‘baubles: multicoloured’ to ‘fairy lights: rave setting modified’.

“Dear Christ.” James murmured, coming over to lean by the door, Q grinning merrily. “When did you do all this?”

“I’ve had a lot of free time, best to keep busy somehow, part-time work is after all only part-time occupation, and there is that saying about the devil and idle thumbs.” James chuckled bit, looking down at Q’s charmingly care free and relaxed expression, posture, and wondering why on earth they’d waited so long to do this.

“Right! You get the boxes, I’ll get the music going.” With no small amount of trepidation James began gingerly removing the modified decorations whilst Q managed to fire up some hitherto unknown Christmas playlist from his laptop.

“You have to understand, me and Sherlock used to take great pleasure in decorating the house for Christmas as soon as Mycroft let us, what with being busy at work. And now that I’ve got you too I feel the need to make this doubly impress.” James grinned as Q set the first song playing, ‘Last Christmas’, if he wasn’t mistaken.

“I can live with that.” He replied, putting the first set of boxes down and turning to grin at Q. “We’ll give them a Christmas to remember.”

Q’s smile could have blinded the sun.

 

-00Q00-

 

The house looked so unbelievably stuffed with festivity that Q couldn’t help laughing the whole way to the airport to pick up Alec. It seemed a bit like a scene from a film to be picking up a friend to come home for Christmas. James had insisted on Q coming along too, not feeling happy leaving Q to the mercy of the fairy lights remnants that they hadn’t hung up yet.

Q was hoping Alec could help a bit with that actually, since James had nearly forbidden Q from doing anything that might endanger his already precarious balance.

Arrival gates at Heathrow were always busy, but Alec was easy to spot through the crowd. He’d had a brief escorting mission of minimal risk and was back without a scratch, all weapons had been dealt with overseas along with the debrief, given that the mission was a favour to the FSB. It was good to see him come home smiling. Well, beaming really.

“Alec.” James greeted with a grin, moving to clap the man on the shoulder and getting pulled into a hug instead.

“Merry Christmas pack!” Alec returned with, whacking a kiss to James’ cheek before scooping Q into a hug and swinging him around a little, Q squawking and clinging on for dear life whilst James laughed.

“Yes yes, lovely to see you too.” Q responded, thought he smiled as he allowed a brief slip in composure to quickly nuzzle Alec’s cheek. Of course, Alec took the opportunity to drape over him like a great bloody cat and snuffle all over Q’s hair and neck ticklishly.

“Come on, lets’ get you home.” James announced, grinning as he slung an arm around Alec and directed the three of them out.

It occurred to Q that he’d never seen James so relaxed in a public place before, that edge of agent awareness still there but not on violent alert. Still, the sight of his mate’s eyes automatically scanning passersby and exits relaxed him in a way that probably spoke of his own hyper vigilance. The pair of alphas had also moved to adopt a sort of guarding frame around him.

“More people, just how many guests are we having?” Alec asked, safely situated in the car.

“My brothers, their partners, well, Eve is with her mother for Christmas, but she’ll be there for Boxing Day. How she managed to book it off is anyone’s guess…”

“Also his brother’s land lady, a couple from prenatal classes might swing by for a drink… I think that’s about it.”

Alec let out a huff of surprise.

“Well, fuck me, you two have been busy making friends.” Q offered the alpha a smile.

“Don’t worry, for the weekend we’re all yours.” Alec grinned. “Besides, it’ll probably be a catastrophe anyway, especially with my brothers concerned. Christ I haven’t had a Christmas for the pair of them since… damn, must be over ten years, that time when Sherlock set fire to the house.”

Alec looked a little impressed and James reached over to squeeze Q’s knee. It really had been that long? _How strange to think of, and we’ve only been talking again for six months._

Q could only hope that everything would be, better than he remembered. The two alphas must have picked up on his slight melancholy because they both changed the conversation to the copious amount of ‘Christmas’ vodka Alec had smuggled back from Russia.

Said vodka quickly went into James and Alec’s coffees back home whilst Q enjoyed a tea. It didn’t take long for both the alphas to attack the remaining lights.

“Come on, James, put your back into it.” Q quipped, grinning, quite enjoying the show of James’ arse as the alpha stood on a chair to get to the top of the tree.

“All those years of warning me to be careful and now you want me to be reckless. The shame Q. You can’t, rush, perfection!” The last words were punctuated with James trying to jam the lights into place and nearly overturning the whole tree. Q failed to restrain his laugh.

“How the _bloody_ hell did these manage to get so tangled?” Alec demanded; fighting large hands through the masses and masses of lights Q had been toying with to get to the plug. After some cursing in Russian the alpha managed to turn them on just before Q realised he’d left them on the ‘rave’ setting.

“No don’t-!”

“Gyahh!” Millions of lights _blinded_ the room and set Alec careering into the tree, James into the remaining lights, tangling up the pair of them and tree ornaments swinging and jingling ominously.

Both agents looked utterly stunned, multicoloured LEDs frantically flashing amongst them. It was all Q could do to get a steady picture on his phone before bursting out into laughter and going weak at the knees.

“Right.”

“Its on Quartermaster.”

With a squeak and more laughter Q tried to escape before he was set upon by the two alphas, tickled mercilessly and tied up in more bows of tinsel and ribbon than could logically fit on a person.

 

-00Q00-

 

Sunday was spent lazing around the house with Alec whilst Q pretended he had to go to M’s house sooner than he did. James knew the man was frantically Christmas shopping, and snorted to himself.

Q was really a very unprepared celebrator. Or maybe he just enjoyed the feeling of being rushed. There were already presents under the tree for both James and Alec, so he at least knew some thought had gone into his gift… And that he wasn’t the one Q had forgotten about.

“Ow!”

…Evidently Q didn’t trust the two agents enough to let them alone with presents under the tree however.

“How on bloody Earth did he manage to electronize _wrapping paper_?!”

“Stop poking it if you want to live to find out.” James advised, rubbing his own slightly singed fingers together. Alec prodded at the package with a shoe moodily.

“But it must be really good if he went to all that trouble to keep me out.” James grinned.

 

-00Q00-

 

“Children, children, what on earth would a child want…” Q murmured, ghosting hands over shelves of gaudy coloured toys and plastic versions of grown up appliances. He had agreed to meet the Mallorys tonight, which meant their children, which meant gifts.

Sure, they wouldn’t open them right away, but still…

Q could admit to himself that he may have cut this a little fine.

He should probably also have asked James to come with him, given the man’s protective impulses, but he didn’t really want his failure on record. It was embarrassing enough when it was just him, let alone asking someone watch him run around like a headless chicken who didn’t have the foggiest what a child might like.

There had hardly been presents galore for him when he was young… He seemed to remember a particularly horrid time when he was five in which his father and mother had insisted on giving him stereotyped ‘growing up omega’ toys…

The experience had been fairly putrid… and contained a fair amount of lacy smocks…

If memory served, Mycroft had somehow forced all the toys and clothes to be destroyed when he developed an allergy to the component that made up the ‘calming’ scent in the lace…

Come to think of it, that allergy was theoretically impossible, given that the scent contained nothing even vaguely allergenic.

Maybe he should buy Mycroft a bigger Christmas present.

For now, he should probably follow his own memories of the Mallory pups and not stick to stereotypic ‘alpha male/female’ toys.

They were Mathew and Beth first, everything else second. And he couldn’t bear the thought of getting Stewie anything in the, frighteningly still existent, ‘ _Omega Darling_ ’ range.

The fewer submitted to forced gender play the better.

And forced into wearing smocks, for that matter. Q cringed at the mere thought as he headed along the rows of merchandise.

 

-00Q00-

 

“MAURICE! Its MAURICE!” It was entirely down to luck that Q maintained his balance when a particularly exuberant Beth all but attacked his legs, nearly vanishing from view entirely under the size of his stomach.

Mathew’s echoing calls of excitement rocketed up from within the depths of the house, followed by stampeding feet. Beneath him Beth blathered and exclaimed about this lesson and that game and what Santa was bringing her for Christmas.

“Maurice!” Mathew came charging in to join his sister before Q could so much as yelp a warning. Luckily Beth absorbed most of the impact and turned snarling at her brother as the collision yanked her hair.

“I missed Maurice!” Mathew crowed up happily, pawing his arms around Q’s belly as much as possible, Beth pushed him.

“I missed Maurice more!”

“Did not!”

“Did too!”

“Mathew, Beth! What have I told you about being good for Father Christmas?” Sorry, Maurice, good to see you again.” The threat of Santa withdrawing his gifts –even for Mathew who ‘knew’ Santa didn’t exist- was enough to sober the young pups substantially. They didn’t appear particularly chastised however, rather grinning and pushing playfully at each other.

“Hello Daniel.” Q greeted, meeting the other omega’s customary cheek rub and handing over the bag of store-gift-wrapped presents.

“What’s in the bag?”

“Is it for us?”

“Is it presents?!” Demanded the munchkins, rapid-fire, elated grins spreading over their faces.

“ _Shhh_.” Q drew out mischievously, finger over his lips as Daniel winked and walked out with the presents.

Beth let out some previously inconceivable squeal of pure delight and Mathew thundered past with an outpouring of questions about the bag, dragging Q along behind.

He had to admit, he’d almost missed the bundles of untamed energy.

“Here we are, nice and under the tree.” Daniel announced, marching the bag over high in the air above his pups’ heads and chivvying them back whilst he unloaded the presents into corresponding piles.

“There we are Stewie, look who’s here.” Q turned to the sound of M’s voice, smiling at finding the man sat with Stewie between his legs, both of them covered in festive paper and sellotape that was probably meant to be on the rather poorly wrapped teapot.

“Nuluh uh! Nuluh uh!” Q grinned at the request for ‘up’ and moved over when M half lifted the excitedly squirming pup to him.

Rather than try to pick up and carry the baby with his rather weak sense of balance, Q sat down next to Mallory, leaning back on the couch as well, and was promptly scaled by the small pup like a mountain.

“Hello there, easy Stewie, easy, yes yes, I missed you too cub.” Q assured, grinning whilst his hands tried to support the rapid assent and glasses knocked askew enough to make him pinch his eyes shut with a grin. M laughed, supporting his pup’s back, as Stuart found Q’s neck and set up camp nuzzling there determinedly, making little cooing noises of untranslatable communication.

“Me too me too!” Beth attacked in a launch of limbs and slipping down socks and grabbing hands, Mathew shortly after…

Q had the most curious sense that M and Daniel had both disappeared as he tried to fight to coordinate the young pack attack going on around him. Glancing around over the top of Mathew’s tousled spikes Q saw the pair of adults beating a hasty retreat to the back of the room and hurrying to slap paper on the last few presents decently whilst their ‘helpful’ pups were distracted.

“And we got to watch all the Christmas movies, and Mrs. Green brought us in cookies to eat-“

“ _We_ got to make our own cookies and decorate them and wrap them up for someone special and I did mine for you-”

“And then there was a rainbow and the duck said-“

“Papa says I’m going to be good enough to join the football team next month-“

“Maurie netht!” Stewie’s babble cut through the others given his newfound ability to speak Q’s given name.

Feeling a rush of affection and some guilt that he was effectively lying to these three children from the start, Q beamed down at them.

“Well, I did promise didn’t I?”

“Nest now! With Dada and Papa!” Beth agreed, Mathew tugged on Q’s arm and nodded rapidly.

“Well,” Q glanced over briefly, noting M and Daniel hurriedly speeding up their frantic wrapping pace with a distinct air of panic that shouldn’t be seen on an MI6 Executive in his own home. “Why don’t you two show me where you keep the bedding and help clear up the floor.”

“Okay!” They both chorused cheerfully.

Q managed to encourage the pups into doing the brunt of the cleaning up of floor space whilst he ‘organised the bedding’ for a good fifteen minutes, Stewie ‘helping’ by sitting on Q’s foot with all limbs wrapped around the standing omega’s leg.

Sometime during the proceedings Daniel had scarpered to the kitchen and Mallory was busy hiding suddenly wrapped presents under the tree and into their pups’ piles.

Before they could really get started on the nest proper, Daniel was calling them all in for dinner.

“Please eat, you need all the strength you can get now.” Daniel prompted as they all sat down with just minor squabbles over the seating arrangement.

“Well, if you insist.”

“I insist.” Daniel grinned back, Q nodded and smirked as he picked up a fork with no further protest.

“Then you have my ever-starving stomach’s gratitude.” Mallory snorted in mild, not unkind disbelief.

“Days were when we had to get you shipped off down to medical for an IV.” Q blushed a bit and Daniel hushed the man with a laugh.

“Yes, well…”

“Don’t listen to him, he’s only teasing.”

“Who’s teasing?” Mathew piped up, curiosity in his gaze. Rather than explain to the pup that his dad occasionally had to force their guest into confined bed-rest and medical attention from neglecting to eat, Mallory smoothed the event over.

“Maurice here is much like Beth’s stomach; a bottomless pit.” He offered teasingly.

“’M’not a bottomless pit!” Beth retorted with her mouth full. Stewie giggled and rather rambunctiously flung food around the table of his spoon, causing both M and Daniel to wince like long-suffering soldiers.

Q couldn’t help but laugh to himself. Really, he’d missed the vibrant cacophony of the Mallory household.

 

-00Q00-

 

Nesting with other people was always an experience… nesting with your boss, who also happened to be the head of British Intelligence, and his mate and pups, was decidedly awkward.

Fortunately, both men knew this, and approached the nesting from a sensible standing.

Well, they tried to, anyway.

“But I want Papa to be in the middle! Both Dada and Maurice need Papa.” Beth decided.

“No, darling, Papa wants to nest next to Dada.” M tried, a valiant attempt to grab the situation back under some semblance of control.

A valiant attempt which failed.

“But you can nest with Dada all the time!” Beth protested, her childish dreams of her ideal unified family evidently falling apart. Q saw the oncoming herald of tears and quickly curtailed the situation.

“Its alright, I don’t mind,” Beth pouted, Mathew yanked on his hand, M frowned in awkward apology, Daniel sighed and Stewie made whooshing sounds as he played with the blanket.

“You promised us! You promised us a perfect nest!”

“Its Christmas Maurice please!” Mathew added on imploringly. Well, demandingly, but since when did alpha children ask for things? Q sighed a bit helplessly, looking up at the head of MI6 for assistance.

“Well, uh,”

“Please Maurice!”

“Please Papa!”

Abruptly, Daniel snorted.

“Sorry.” He managed before turning his head away and trying to conceal his amusement. The man was clearly a sadist… Or a heavy supporter of the misery of others. “Do, please carry on.” M stood a bit straighter and shrugged a bit at Q.

“Alright then.” The chorus of cheers spurred them into the nest. At least M could clearly fashion a decent one.

The three adults sat down and tried to coral the pyjama-clad children into place. Beth became attached to her Dada, snuggling close whilst Stewie squished himself between Q and M, Mathew moulded himself around the pregnant omega’s belly and settled in.

Q and M remained stiffly side-by-side whilst Daniel, the traitor, snickered and shook next to them, hiding the sound in his daughter’s hair.

So much for the peace and calm tranquillity of a nest.

Q couldn’t quite remember a more uncomfortable experience. After a while when the pups’ wriggling had settled down, the quartermaster chanced a sidelong glance at his superior.

M’s face was set in stone and staring at the ceiling, jaw clenched as if to stave off embarrassment. Q burst out laughing at the sight, at the absurdity of the situation, smothered it badly, Mathew joining in just because he didn’t want to be left out whilst M raised an imperious eyebrow. At Q’s half apologetic hand wave the man’s tension broke and he huffed a brief snort of amusement.

“Do you, do you think we should get, get a larger bed next?” Daniel stuttered out, voice breaking with laughter as he referred to what his innocent young children’s words tended to imply. Q utterly failed to hold back hysterics and M broke out with a snort, quivering a bit with concealed laughter.

“Maybe free up a drawer.” The alpha suggested, voice slightly strangled with laughter. The omegas either side dissolved with restrained giggles as the pups begun demanding what was so funny.

“Dada tell us!” Beth demanded.

“No no,” Q gulped. “Don’t want to cause a domestic.” M barked out laughter and after that the three of them were gone. The pups were either annoyed or pleased to see the three laughing, even if they couldn’t understand why. Stewie, of course, simply gabbled along and flapped arms merrily as the grown ups continued trading such comments amidst fits of laughter.

Without a doubt, Q knew he and M would never speak of this in their normal lives. For now though, they were Maurice and Gareth instead, and for the sake of children and Christmas, that was just fine.

 

-00Q00-

 

Regardless of how secure James felt in his relationship, it was always a relief to have Q come home. Tomorrow was Christmas Eve, their first attempt socialising with a large group in their house the day after, and he had Alec drinking merrily whilst telling exuberant stories and Q laughing, tucked up safe and sound beside him as a storm waged war outside.

For the first time, in a long time, the world seemed exciting yet utterly threatless.

It should have unnerved him, but instead James let himself float in the strange sense of peace he felt, and wondered if this was how the rest of the world usually felt at Christmas?

And for a moment, he could admit to himself without irony that maybe some of that peace for everyone else, was thanks to people like the three sitting in a ridiculously painted house on the 23rd of December, just sharing in each other’s company.

With a smile on his face, and calling the now tipsy Alec out when he got the story wrong and inserted ridiculous exaggeration instead, and Q falling over with laughter against him, James thought he was in danger of being able to get far too used to this.

Next year, their Christmas would be irrevocably different. He considered, hand curled contentedly over Q’s swollen belly. Already, a part of him couldn’t wait to see what it would be like.

An image of himself and Q haggard and running around to the ruckus demands of a barley walking infant and frantically fretting about which Holmes brother to have round this year gave him reason to snort.

It might be the headlights of the proverbial oncoming train, but there was a large part of the agent that was far more excited to see what would happen this Christmas than any adult had a right to. But then, in many ways, none of them had ever entirely grown up.

As proven when Q got up and Alec proceeded to tease him whilst grinning about his new walking gait. Q retaliated impatiently but Alec was all heart, really, and soon insisted on getting Q to dance wobblingly with him. The omega’s glares were soon lost under Alec’s ridiculously over-emphasised suave tango technique –no doubt mocking James- and increasingly wild attempts to dip his quartermaster. James had to get up and save Q after a while, though the omega was laughing, when he started worrying that his mate’s back might give way despite Alec’s arm support.

Yes. It would serve to be interesting, without a doubt…

Anything else was as unknown as the baby growing mysteriously in Q’s stomach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, so it looks like I have way too much Xmas spirit xD ...maybe I do... maybe I have a problem...  
> Ahem! Anyway, hope you enjoyed the M!kids return, there will be a beautifully Holmesian xmas next chapter and then we're really nearly there! (ha, I still don't believe this beautiful monster will end! ...I don't really want it to! ;D)
> 
> Ha, occurred to me that I really have no idea what they're going to seriously call this child, though I know the gender, of course ;3 Any suggestions/xmas requests chuck em my way! Can't promise to fulfil them all but I do love ideas n_n  
> Thanks for reading and Muchos Gracias to all those beautiful comments and kudoses last chapter, I loved them, and you. Have a good week and the dessert of your choice! :)


	43. H0: The more the merrier; H1: Possibly a few too many.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A day late! but its a long one, so hopefully that's okay!  
> Btw, yeah, this chapter is Christmas. And, um not much else ';D You'll also have to forgive any indulgent mentions of silly games, I love them 'x3
> 
> **Notes:** For any unfamiliar with the games mentioned in this chapter, here's a very brief summary...  
>  Cluedo: A detective game, you try to guess a muderer, weapon and room picked out of the pack by deducing your opponents cards.  
> Risk: A game of world domination/other continent-conquering missions. You roll dice to win or lose battles and gain/lose countries on a board that is like a map.  
> Monopoly: Well, I hope you all know this one! Or at least a variant. The version used here is of course the typical British board.
> 
> Also **Warning:** Sexy Christmas times...
> 
> Now please enjoy!

It was probably a tell of how accustomed James had become to Q’s abnormal sleeping patterns that, with a small word of being okay from Q, he was able to go back to sleep again. Usually, he’d have been up with Q, or at least checking on the omega himself rather than accepting the mumbled ‘I’m fine’ or ‘back in a min’ or simply ‘need to piss’ with a grunt and drifting off again.

Thus Q could now, effectively, sneak up on his mate. Something astonishing for James given the relative size and proportions of his omega, along with the alpha’s own hyper-vigilance. Q seemed to fully intend on using and abusing his new found ninja powers whilst he could. Of course the quartermaster had a particular advantage, being in that James would never ever attack him even when woken from the deepest of slumbers or dreams. Even subconsciously, he knew it was Q. Their mate familiarity gave the omega free reign on all sneaking privileges with his alpha hard wired to never cause him harm.

This blanket protection was the only reason both Q and incubated pup evidently felt it was entirely safe to pounce onto the bed next to James, rocking the mattress violently and startling the double oh awake with a chuckle. James’ only swift reaction, before even fully awake, was to automatically lurch upright into enough of a sit to catch Q’s disappeared waist protectively and steady him against the bed’s rocking.

Q’s grin and gentle laughing continued as James blinked blearily until the omega had leant close enough to kiss the side of the man’s nose.

“Merry Christmas. If Blasty’s a boy, your son now has testicles descending. Congratulations!”

Really, it took James a while to process the lovingly murmured words. It honestly wasn’t a speech he’d ever expected to be woken by.

“And if it’s a girl?” He mumbled out, of all things, after a few seconds, voice low and rumbled with sleep, brain taking a minute to catch up. Q grinned softly, teasingly, and turned to nuzzle into James neck just below the ear.

“Ohhh then she got her kit all sorted out long ago.”

A different man to James might stop to think how it was strange that Q could make his voice drop with sexual intent during such a sentence. As it stood, however, James merely embraced the lightning running through his waking veins and felt the stirrings of interest in his groin as Q’s teeth scraped gently over the skin beneath his ear. Sparks ignited under the barely touched skin and a growl of pleasure almost like a purr curled up from within him.

Q’s responding murmur held the same reverberations as if they were speaking the same forgotten language. Arms going fully around the younger man to rest at the heated small of his back and nestle into thick hair on his scalp, James pulled the omega closer until their bellies rubbed.

“Merry Christmas it is.” James remarked, and then began a lengthy attack of teeth and tongues on the omega’s neck. Lips traced over the small white ridges of mating scar, James’ hand pulling gently on whorls of dark hair to encourage Q to bare his neck. With a soft moan of longing, Q did, long fingered hands running up James’ bare waist-back-shoulders-neck with hot skin before rubbing through short hair to pull the man closer.

James was only too happy to offer Q the bite they both wanted, sinking teeth into the soft flesh and gripping a bruise onto it, Q shivered with the pressure on the sensitive nerve endings of the claim mark and… fell backwards.

“Oof!” James would reflect later, sometimes around when he had his nose buried in a glass of wine, that the noise wasn’t a particularly dignified one for a military trained alpha to make when attempting to catch and support his pregnant mate.

The omega’s body bounced slightly on the bed and James, getting pulled down by the weight he’d tried to catch, barely managed to push himself away quick enough to avoid landing on Q’s belly.

Beneath the alpha’s rather impressive crash the bed sprang up and down, wheezing. Q squeaked and laughed as the movement jostled him and James joined in with a chuckle as they turned to each other.

Q‘s arm slid up to James’ cheek and they met for a kiss. He let his tongue chase Q’s laugh for a few moments, smiling through their presses of lips as Q huffled laughter against him. One hand slid up the slightly softer flesh of his mate’s thigh and stroked back and forth, squeezing, fingers sliding just high enough to tease at the man’s buttocks, entrance.

A hot trail of fingers curled around James’ half-mast cock without warning, cradling contentedly as the alpha’s hips jerked forwards with the sensation of dry hand on sensitive skin. Grinning retaliation into Q’s lips and meeting cheeky green eyes, unhindered by glasses, James let his hand slip up, slide between easily parted cheeks and push his middle finger past the puckered breach of muscle in one long penetration. Q’s bucked reaction and hitched laugh was delectable.

Without words, because with Q, who needed words? The two looked at each other and a silent challenge was set and accepted through James’ smirk and Q’s glinting eyes.

Q tugged just on the right side of hard at the thickening cock in his hand, mouth all grin and laugh. James slipped out to grab Q’s thighs and swing him into straddling the older man’s legs, earning a bark of laughter. Eyes crinkling in mirth even as he spread legs slightly and thrust into the circle of Q’s fingers, nail carefully skimming the slit of himself. James pushed both arms between Q’s legs. With one solid push the alpha pressed both thumbs into Q deep and then hooked and spread them just right.

Above him Q jerked and half collapsed with a shuddered gasp and keen. The hand on his shaft was joined by a second rubbing and tugging at his balls and shots of pleasure sparked up James’ nerves causing his eyes to roll a little with a grunt. Hurriedly, working to catch up what ground he could with Q’s ensuing, if breathless, laugh James kept one thumb hooked in Q whilst the three fingers pressed into slickening heat and thrust the laughter out of Q in quick huffs and pants.

“Oh _god_ , James, you, ha,” The alpha turned with a pleased groan as Q pressed a finger to his perineum to bite gently at the curve of his mate’s ear.

“Sorry, didn’t quite catch that?” He murmured with an amused smirk. Q growled delightfully playfully and gripped James’ cock as he wriggled forwards and positioned them till the alpha felt the head of his dick slide along to catch on ready hole.

He groaned as Q chuckled darkly, breathily, bearing down just slowly enough so that the glands breached into tight heat and popped in at their widest point.

“Damn it, Q,” James panted, unable to deny Q the amusement in his voice, nor the wanton buck of his hips as the omega squeezed his muscles tightly around the intrusion. Both of them were shaking a bit with the building tension, Bond’s cock weeping and aching for more as Q dripped and trembled around him.

“Move,” James commanded throatily.

“You move.” Q shot back, grin re-emerging. They met each other’s eyes with a brief and electric high before both men surged into movement.

Q shoved down as James shot up and together they met in a shock of pure ecstatic volts through the nerves and up spine to the brain, mutual moans on their lips.

For a moment the pure strength of being fully joined with each other forced them to just breathe and adjust. A few seconds of harsh breathing as James adapted to the clamped tightness around him and Q breathed through the penetration seated deep and heavy within him. Eventually, Q’s grin fought back, though his eyes remained closed, and he rocked a little figure of eight from where he sat flush against James, breathy laughter breaking from him again at the electric surge of pleasure it caused

Gently, James started to thrust, soon not so gently as he grinned and swallowed up Q’s laughing pants as the alpha’s thickness pumped in and out of him, stretching.

“Do you want me to slow down?” James teased, forcing his voice into something one might use to discuss the weather. Q barked a laugh roughly, face a painting in ecstasy as he sat up and opened his green-blown-black eyes.

“Don’t you dare!” With that it was James’ turn to laugh roughly with his breath as Q squirmed himself into as stable position as he could whilst impaled and worked himself up and down, clenching hard on the jerks up as he rode James.

“You, bloody minx.” James accused, breathing hard and grinning ferally as he grasped Q’s hips and jerked up hard enough to stutter the omega’s rhythm without breaking it. Q quickly regained equilibrium and met James’ thrusting with gleeful abandon, giggling and squirming occasionally. The sound was so uninhibited and carefree that it shot to warm places that had James grinning at the melody.

It had been a week or two since they last managed to indulge like this and soon both alpha and omega were throwing themselves into the rhythm, chasing the building fire and rocking the bed until Q buckled. With the omega moaning and starting to clench tightly and rhythmically against James’ cock the alpha quickly tightened his hold on Q’s hips and pulled down as he thrust up.

Q blurted out a heartfelt ‘yes!’ as James groaned and pushed them together harder, knot swelling and brain fizzling as he spurted deep into Q. In their moment of orgasmic rigor the two men fell to the side and rolled over with a series of yelps and scrambles as they teetered on toppling over the unseen edge of the bed.

James held equilibrium for a brief and delusional moment before gravity pulled him and forced him to spend the remainder of orgasmic bliss with head and shoulders on the floor, hips up on the bed with Q perched on top like a pin up girl on the hood of a 50’s car.

For a moment they blinked at each other, stunned, from their different heights. The moment Q’s eyes squinted shut and he snorted into a witch’s cackle, weaving backwards onto his elbows, James boomed out a laugh of brilliant, shocked hilarity.

Above them Alec threw a boot onto the floor and shouted at them to keep it down.

James and Q were just lost to each other, and, of course, entirely stuck in that position until they untied.

With Q in fits of weakening, tearful laughter above him, and James’ own disbelief at finding a position he had never tried before in such a manner, the alpha couldn’t help thinking that Christmas morning was off to an excellent start.

 

-00Q00-

 

The first of their guests would be arriving at around midday. Which meant all the cooking had to be fairly ready to go because James would soon have to be making sure that no fights broke out until Q returned from work.

Q had left James in no doubt that Christmas dinner needed to be spectacular. What with all the various foods Q had brought it was obvious the omega had been taken by the festive spirit…

Which would be fine, except Q couldn’t really cook and was also going off to work until two o’clock.

“You’ll be alright wont you? You’ll have Alec to help as well… well, as much as is safe anyway.”

“Hey! I heard that.” James pulled Q away from the fridge and tried to nullify the omega’s look of growing horror. It seemed Q had finally realised just what he’d done by ordering the monstrous quantities of food.

“We’ll be fine, Alec’s a very good cook, aren’t you Alec?”

“One of the best.” Alec responded without missing a beat, sounding entirely believable as he tried to find the most explosive film playing on TV.

Q frowned a bit worriedly and James kissed the man whilst walking him backwards to the door, stroking his belly.

“Go, Q. Just think, five more days and I’ll never let you leave here again.” This, at least, brought a chuckle from the other man. Q smiled up at James.

“Alright. Be back soon.” James had rung for an MI6 driver to escort Q to and from work, not liking his mate going anywhere alone in his current state. Pleased to see the man was one he recognised James waved Q into the car and turned back to the kitchen where an array of meat, vegetables and unidentified others lurked ominously.

“Right.” He walked over and observed the mess. “Ever cooked anything even vaguely like a roast dinner before?” Alec looked over, finally having found a rather violent film.

“Does that spit-roast squirrel we cooked in Bolivia count?”

“Get a recipe.”

“For the squirrel?” James looked up at Alec’s would-be-innocent face and grinned.

“Not unless you want to be the one who explains it to Q.”

“Duly noted.” Alec searched on his phone for a few minutes as James prodded the food into ‘identified’ and ‘miscellaneous’ piles.

“Got it.”

“Good, bring it here.”

_Well, this complicates things._ James pondered, reading such words as ‘brazing’ and ‘marinade’ that he’d been on the receiving end of in restaurants to great enjoyment, but never had to deliver personally.

“You know what, scrap this, I’m sure we can figure it out.” Alec offered with cavalier relaxation and dismissive shrug.

“You start on the canapés, I’ll do battle with the turkey.”

“Roger.”

A battle it was. On both sides.

“How the hell are you meant to marinade something the size of an obese bulldog?” James cursed, turning the turkey that barely fit in their largest baking tray and gingerly preparing to pour melted stock over it.

“You know what I hate? Symmetry. Symmetry is overrated.” Alec huffed as he fiddled with putting tiny slices of gherkin over cream cheese on crackers.

With some creative pouring and tin foil placement James managed to get the turkey somewhat stuffed into the oven.

Several of the vegetables were fairly easy, especially when all put into the same pot of water to boil.

Peeling upwards of two potato bags however…

“Bugger!” James growled, peeler again becoming clogged with peelings, and threw it down in favour of pulling a hunting knife from his ankle sheath.

The effect was much more satisfying. Alec grinned over from where he was using his own knife to slice bread for smoked salmon.

“Good move.” The two agents looked over at each other and grinned a bit stupidly.

“You know what would improve this? Vodka.”

“Or beer, wine, anything.” They shared a glance.

“Punch?”

“Punch.”

Alec swiftly abandoned his own cooking exploits to find the largest bowl he could, any fruit juices he could, and far too much alcohol.

The effect of that made the cooking a lot more satisfying in a startlingly short time.

“You, you can’t, you can’t shoot the potatoes into mashed submission,” Alec chocked through fits of laughter. James’ arms threatened to go weak from giggling where he was wielding the potato masher for those going un-roasted and fought the desire to pummel the small pale beasts with a gun instead of the clogged up masher.

Perseverance and a copious amount of butter eventually paid off.

“James. There aren’t enough plates.” Alec managed, voice tight with laughter as he weaved very slightly on the spot and stared at the spread of his canapés creations.

“S-stack them? Or a bowl?” James hiccupped, lunging rather foolishly for another glass of the punch and thinking belatedly that he’d really have to sober up a little at some point.

Mostly, he thought he was drunk on laughter. Something more or less confirmed when Alec created his dangerously leaning smoked salmon sandwich tower.

Really, James thought it was all going rather well. That was until the giant vegetable pot boiled over and started to spill peas and sprouts all over the counter and floor.

 

-00Q00-

 

Q-Branch on Christmas day was not the skeleton staff one might expect. There were some jobs that required full staffing constantly. Still, Q managed to throw a mini Christmas-lunch in the middle of the day.

Everyone abandoned work to pull together some tables and lay out various foods that the group of them had brought in. Some cards were exchanged and Q tried to do the rounds of catching up with everyone he could briefly. It was always interesting to know who was planning on celebrating the season after work, who was here because they had to be, who was here through a sense of duty, who was trying to avoid a worse fate at home, who had nothing at home to celebrate for. The last was unfortunately common in MI6. One person not here however, was R, who Q suspected was having a sneaky Christmas with the also absent 005.

Still, Q didn’t linger long. He was only in for six-hour shifts these days, and only had a few days left to finalise everything before he left his Branch for a frighteningly long while. There were reports to go through and some final firewall codes to touch up so that Q branch was left in as cast-iron of a defence as he could manage. He would also be shadowing R’s two soon-to-be assistants to see if they could cut the mustard. He scanned through the active missions and touched base with MI6’s foreign posts and a couple of the double oh’s out on duty, the ones that weren’t deep under cover at least. Those he cast an eye on from above.

Finally running through the diagnostic checks for the latest weapon and Intel gathering development Q stamped seals of approval and signed off on budgets, and went to examine the items that weren’t working or needed longer in the labs.

It was fascinating and fast and almost all too soon it was two o’clock. Keen though the omega was to get back to James and the frightening yet exciting prospect of Christmas, he couldn’t help feeling nostalgic and a bit sad about leaving work in a few days.

It being Christmas, Q took a moment in his office to just breathe in the scent of his domain, eyes closed. He would miss his work, yes, but he’d have something new and fascinating to indulge in. Q brought a hand to his stomach and stroked gently.

“Remind me to bring you here, one day, if I can. You should see it.” Q smiled for a moment, then jumped up as much as he was able and vacated his office with a grin on his face.

True, he’d miss work. But he had somewhere better to be. And that wasn’t something he imagined he’d ever be able to say about his life.

The mere thought was invigorating and Q felt fully justified in humming festive tunes to himself on the way home.

 

-00Q00-

 

James and Alec had managed to calm down a bit; thankfully, by the time the first guests arrived. Of course, Mycroft was nothing if not prompt. The smart rap at the door by an umbrella handle could only come from one person.

“Mycroft, come in.” James welcomed, grinning a little from the punch still and gesturing the older alpha in.

“Thank you, merry festivities.” Mycroft responded, entering with a surprisingly large bag full of wrapped gifts. “Mr Trevelyan.”

“Alec, please.” Grinned the Russian alpha with a hint of danger. Mycroft remained unfazed. James reasoned vaguely that Mycroft might just be one of the ones who signed their pay cheques.

“Am I the first?”

“You are, can I offer you some punch?” James asked, grinning a bit as Mycroft looked a little nauseously at the explosion of decorations and lights around the flat.

“Thank you. My we have been festive.” James and Alec shared a smirking glance as Mycroft accepted a glass of the punch and begun unloading items from the bag.

Out came several excessively pristinely wrapped boxes, two bottles of what James knew too be exceedingly fine champagne, a set of the board game Risk and a couple of rather old but cared for looking photo albums. The albums went on the coffee table with the game and the rest under the tree. James picked the book up curiously.

“All the pictures I could find. Goes up to the age of sixteen for Aster, we stopped after that point. Thought you might be interested.

For such a private man as Mycroft to consider bringing such a thing along was a little astonishing.

“Thank you.” James responded, at a bit of a loss with just how curious he was.

“Consider it my belated Mating gift. Welcome to the family, Mr. Bond.” Mycroft raised his glass to the other alpha and James was a bit struck by the sincere formality of it. Alec, fortunately, broke the moment.

“Champagne! Never mind the punch, lets crack open this stuff.” Without further ado Alec grabbed the nearest bottle and, heedless of Mycroft’s warnings, popped the bottle open. The cork shot across the room and lodged itself firmly in the Christmas tree, dislodging some of the baubles with a rattle and setting the lights back into ‘rave mode’, nearly blinding the eldest Holmes.

“Now its Christmas!” Alec announced in celebration and, regardless of the destruction he’d just caused, went to find and fill glasses with the alcohol.

James just chuckled at Mycroft’s shock and went to push the damaged decorations further into a hidden corner before going to check on the hopefully nearly cooked turkey.

Half an hour after Mycroft, Sherlock, John, Mrs. Hudson and a mysterious yet recognisable individual poled up.

“Oh, Mycroft.” Sherlock sounded disappointed to see his brother there. “Where’s Q?” James wasn’t quite sure when Sherlock had started using Q’s preferred name over ‘Aster’, but it seemed like some strange mark of respect.

“Hello, brother dear. Charming as ever I see.” John rolled his eyes at the pair and pushed past, grinning at James and nodding at Alec.

“Merry Christmas, he means. Hello you two. Where can I put these?” John held up a bag of some nibbles, drinks and a few gifts.

“Under the tree. Here, who’s that?” Behind the two bickering Holmes brothers stood a rather bemused looking man next to Mrs. Hudson. Both individuals looked a little surprised as they accepted champagne from Alec’s imposing form. Mrs. Hudson was positively blushing, hiding her giggles with a hand and looking a little flustered. Alec, being Alec, simply grinned and worked harder on his charm offensive.

“Greg Lestrade. Scotland yard.”

“Ah.” That explained the familiarity.

“He was with us a couple of Christmases ago too, thought we’d bring him along…” John leaned conspiratorially closer and whispered rather loudly. “His mate left him, we thought it best to keep him busy.”

James couldn’t hide the smirk, and thought he ought to text Tanner with the startling line up for their ‘small’ gathering. The man behind the government and the chief of Scotland Yard in the same house as two crown assassins and the nation’s Quartermaster… Really, it was quite an impressive haul.

The man detached himself from Alec’s blatant and ridiculous flattery of the elderly omega, Sherlock looking on with a certain glower of agitation as Mycroft rolled his eyes, and came over to James.

“Hello, Greg Lestrade. Sorry for the intrusion, I was meant to be eating with that lot and next thing I know they all up and come here,” The man said with a long-suffering but winningly grinning down-to-earth tone. “I can leave, if it’s easier.”

“No need. Bond, James Bond.” He waved off easily, accepting the grounding handshake as Lestrade glanced back over at the two Holmes’ with a hint of suffering and nerves.

“Uh, word has it, you have a third one?” He voiced, almost worried sounding. James raised an eyebrow and smirked.

“Interesting words.”

“Oh god, there really are three of them? I’m not sure if I want to know more or run away.” John clapped Greg companiably on the shoulder.

“Don’t worry, you’ll like this one. He’s the likeable brother.”

“Who’s the likeable brother?” Both Sherlock and Mycroft asked with terrifying synchronicity.

There were a couple of snorts and more than a few rolling eyes.

As Alec came over to appraise the stranger under the pretence of guiding him around the house, James realised he couldn’t tell whether Lestrade was beta or alpha. It intrigued him as much as shocked him. Mostly because he found that it didn’t set him on edge. Rather, the combination put him at ease.

How very odd the collection of one Sherlock Holmes was.

Hoping Q would come back soon, James turned to examine the chicken and check the pre-cooked vegetables hadn’t gone soggy.

Alec winked at him from where he was subtly plying everyone in the house with more champagne. It was strange, but James was nothing if not adaptive. Now all he needed was Q to completely relax and enjoy the strange conglomeration of people.

The alpha was about to let himself join the others when there was another knock at the door. Frowning, he put the oven mitts over his shoulder and went to answer the newcomer. Outside in the cold winter sun were three women.

“I found these two ladies lurking outside. I assumed they had something to do with you?” Eve smirked, James glanced behind her to the also smirking Irene and Kate.

“I wish I could tell you you were wrong.” He half-teased, at the same time wondering just when he and Q became so popular. Alec must be thinking the same thing as he whistled in the background.

“Don’t keep the ladies waiting James!” The two mated women cast far too interested glances in Alec’s direction and then at each other. James had the feeling his friend was going to be eaten alive. And would enjoy every minute of it.

“Eve,” Mycroft greeted, sounding immensely pleased and almost _happy_ in a way Mycroft Holmes simply did not do.

“Hello bear.” Eve purred as she slipped sveltely across the room, looking absolutely stunning and rather setting off Mycroft. James shook his head, letting in the two women before a soft cough brought his attention back to the door.

“Um, hello, is this the party?” James looked down in surprise to see the Molly girl that Alec had so painfully failed with. James tried not to snort at the memory. It had been far too funny to hear Alec agonise to both him and Q over a mission and gunfire about just what went wrong. Q had had quite the hard time not laughing, given he had seen it coming. James could only shake his head. Alec’s infatuations were either the stuff of legend or hilariously lack lustre. It was obvious by Molly’s eye-line and already tipsy sway that there was only one person she was interested in, and that she knew she wouldn’t be getting him.

Patting the young omega on the shoulder in commiseration –and meeting Mrs. Hudson’s sympathetic gaze as he did so- James welcomed Molly into the flat. What was Christmas without a few broken hearts after all?

Casually, he suggested the intoxicated girl sit between Mrs. Hudson and Greg. Alec at least had the chivalry to greet the girl awkwardly. She seemed perfectly nice to Alec, though obviously only infatuated with him because of the proximity to an alpha and a sense of friendship. Everything from her head to toes was angulated towards Sherlock as if he were a magnet.

It was quite painful to watch, yet at the same time, James couldn’t help but find it rather amusing, especially when Alec didn’t quite know how to handle someone being friendly with him but completely uninterested in his sex appeal.

James also had to go pat Alec with commiseration on the shoulder, thinking that some people were just unlucky in love, and profoundly glad he was no longer one of them.

 

¬-00Q00-

 

Q arrived home to a livelier house than he had anticipated.

“I’m home!” He called out, a bit unsurely, the wall of chatter and laughter surprising him somewhat. James came around the corner at the same time a couple of choruses of the omega’s different names came up. Luckily, his mate’s smile was enough to put him at ease.

“Welcome home, love.” James pulled him into a kiss that Q clung to before raising an eyebrow.

“And the astounding amount of noise is?” Q questioned, still surprised by the sound of people enjoying themselves. James raised both eyebrows in a show of surprise and gestured Q in.

“It seems we throw quite the party.”

And, well. It was just everyone wasn’t it?

_Very, very odd_. Q thought to himself as he was hugged individually by Alec, both brothers, Eve, Alec again, a rather tipsy and over-friendly Molly, Mrs. Hudson, John, Alec again, two teasing vixens he’d never hugged before and felt a little violated by, Alec, and had his hand shaken by the head of Scotland Yard.

_Extremely odd_. Q amended, and took his seat at the hugely overcrowded table where there was quite a staggering display of food.

“James, you’ve outdone yourself.” Q commented in amazed shock. James preened and grinned, Alec butted in.

“Hey, half of it was me!”

“Let us not be hasty, everyone, as they say, the proof is in the pudding.” Mycroft commented with superior propriety, and not a small hint of smug.

“Of course you’re thinking of pudding already.” Sherlock muttered, and there were a few laughs as well as a few slaps and glares aimed at the beta. Q rolled his eyes at his brothers’ imperious glares at each other down the table, and abruptly felt a lot more comfortable. Wordlessly he clinked glasses with James, unable to stop grinning up at the man, and drunk whilst they smirked over the rims at each other.

 

-00Q00-

Dinner was actually fairly astounding. Sure, the sprouts tasted a little off (but didn’t they always? Q couldn’t stand them) and the turkey was a very funny colour of orange and, well, shape. It looked distinctly square and oven-like as oppose to bird. The various sauces around the table other than gravy had Q’s nose wrinkling, but regardless he made the effort to eat a bit of everything and make audible noises of enjoyment for James.

The alpha positively shone with the praise.

“I have to say, this is a very interesting concoction, what is it?” Mycroft piped up at one point, spooning his sample of the bowl of green mush around on his plate dubiously.

“Special Bond family recipe.” James replied candidly. Mycroft chose wisely not to pry further, though he only gingerly ate the offering. Q was surprised when between James and Alec the bowl purposefully missed him, although everyone else on the table –Sherlock included- seemed obliged to taste.

“Special recipe.” Alec muttered into Q’s ear subtly, watching the other guests try to hide their dislike for the strange condiment. James casually leaned within murmuring distance under the pretence of fetching Q more pigs in blankets.

“Petit Pois ala floor.” Q snorted into his drink and had to be excused by both agents. Even without a drop of liquor, Q felt incredibly warmed. Possibly from having England’s two finest agents giving him their backs whilst duping his brothers.

Eve noticed their shenanigans, and managed to wisely bypass the dish herself.

 

-00Q00-

 

“Now, my present to you both.” Mycroft announced. Q could only stare wide-eyed. Not at the old photo book he hadn’t seen in years, but at the sight of his eldest brother swaying. Sherlock leaned over just a bit too far and rambunctiously, spilling both his drinks and knocking John and Mycroft nearly into each other.

“Let me see that!”

He grabbed the book before Mycroft could stop him and both he and John began peering through.

“STOP! Stop _stop_ is that _you_?!” John shouted. A bit too-loudly to be entirely sober. Sherlock glared and tried to snatch the book away.

“No!”

“It _is_! It is! Greg, Mrs. Hudson!” The two were there in moments, along with Irene and Kate. Molly was simply at the point of drunkenness where she was standing and swaying on the spot whilst staring at Sherlock. Alec looked more than a little unnerved about her.

With a slightly worried look of distaste Q leant to James, next to him on the sofa, keeping his eyes on the girl.

“If she throws up in our house because of whatever you and Alec put in the punch, I’m not cleaning it up.” He stated. James coughed a bit to disguise either nerves or a laugh and shifted, leaning to pick something up from the pile of variously wrapped presents.

“Well, regardless, here.” With no more pre-amble James handed over two gifts and tapped the rectangular one. “That one first.”

Grinning at the cryptic instructions and the strange hint in James’ eyes, Q ripped apart the paper to find a book. A manuscript-like bound thing, the brown cover read simply ‘ _Casino Royale_ ’.

“…James-“

“I want to write one for you each year.” James cut in, voice low and a bit overly casual. “Until I get to, well, us.” He paused for a moment as Q chanced looking at him, his gaze flickering between mate and book. The alpha’s eyes remained resolutely on the cover, as if unable to witness anything else. “I’d appreciate if you could, give it a once over.” Q’s fingers traced the printed words for a moment and he took a breath.

Curiously, he flicked the pages of the book so that they fluttered to the last page and then closed it again, holding it between two hands.

Somewhere, some part of him had never believed to be reading this, or learning it, before he knew James was actually writing a book. To be brought into someone’s trust like that. _James_ ’ trust…

“I’d be honoured.” Q replied, and he meant it. James huffed a bit awkwardly.

“Don’t be honoured, just be honest. It’s probably written like trash anyway.” Q just smiled faintly at him.

“I doubt that.” James met Q’s eyes in a brief and piercing gaze, and seemed to be placated by what he found. With a slightly self-abashed smile, the alpha shrugged out of his worry and gestured to the second, unwrapped gift.

“Go on, open that one. Call it an insurance policy.” Q grinned and ripped into the second present, putting the book carefully to his right. Out of festive wrapping fell, surprisingly, two framed pictures of the two of them. The first had James hefting a disgruntled Q whilst pregnant with a shit-eating grin on his face. The second, one of the pair of them standing over Q’s desk, heads together as Q pointed something out to James on a laptop screen, hands just touching as the alpha’s hovered over his mate’s, curious of the program. Q glanced up at James.

“Why these ones?” James offered a smile back.

“They were my favourites. That one,” he indicate the office photo, “I had no idea about, of course. Thank Eve.” The female alpha waved cheerfully over at them. Something slipped from between the photos and Q took it curiously. It was an envelope. Q picked it open and found inside a collection of rather ingeniously well mocked up tickets to new films coming out this year that Q had been dying to see. James grinned a bit smugly.

“That’s my solemn promise to go to every one of your films with you now that we’re both in-country. Even if I have to kidnap a pup-sitter to do it.”

There were really no words for it. Q squeaked a bit through his beaming grin and threw himself into James’ arms gleefully whilst the alpha chuckled, relieved and pleased.

“Are those _MC Hammer_ pants?” John splurted out in the background as Greg bellowed with laughter and Sherlock fumed. Irene and Kate shared an ‘aww baby’ look briefly whilst Molly looked frankly stunned and a bit brain-shocked.

“My turn.” Q announced merrily, pulling out of James’ arms with a thank-you kiss and delving into the presents for James’. “Here, any you like first.”

Again there were two presents, James grabbed the long rectangular one first and Q smirked a bit.

Inside was a set of ten lovingly crafted and individual pens. James examined them for a minute, frowning.

“They don’t explode, but-“ Both James and Alec’s eyes turned manically gleeful and grinned.

“What do they do, dove?” Alec almost purred. Q looked to see that Alec had fished his own present from the pile, a set of five pens.

“You’ll have to find out.” Q smiled enigmatically, and saw the two Alphas practically salivate at the lethal possibilities and challenge.

“Oh Q, you shouldn’t have.” James praised, voice at odds with his words.

“I know. Go on, next one.” He chivvied, and James complied rapidly. The second package contained a much softer item. There was a soft baby-sized sleep suit and a few identical fleecy bracelets.

“…” James’ silence prompted Q to explain, a bit worried for a moment.

“A bit premature, I know, but I couldn’t resist… The, suit measures heartbeat and temperature, body position, the bracelets do location as well, I just need to rig it up to your phone and-oomph!” Q was cut off neatly when James pulled him into a nearly crushing hug.

“Just how the hell do you know me so well, love?” Q grinned and basked in the moment.

“James! James you’ve got to take a look at this, you wont believe it, they’re actually posing for a family photo in this one!” John called, making wild beckoning movements.

Q managed to just about hide his grimace, darting looks at his brothers. He wasn’t sure a party full of drunkards was quite the way to unearth old and not-so-cheerful family photographs. James detached long enough to pluck the album away and glance over some of the pages.

“I’ll look through it fully later.” He affirmed, for now remaining, thankfully, serious. Q couldn’t help feeling a little uncomfortable as he glanced over and down.

On the first few pages –and this album had evidently been modified to pick up mostly from Q’s birth, there being only a couple of young Sherlock and Mycroft pictures- Q was a barely clad or smock-wearing pup. In the middle James flicked through pictures of a wan and unfocused-faced child looking almost terrified in some pictures to be caught on camera with Sherlock’s ludicrously rebellious outfits next to him. Finally James flipped to the back pages where there was a skinny, uneasy teen in school uniform or comfortable clothes, peeking out from behind books and caught in movement.

Though the album was in colour, the pictures almost universally looked monochromatically grey. James’ fingers tightened a bit, uncomfortably, one thumb almost brushing the side of Q’s younger self being held in the picture by Mycroft.

“No no, back a page, that one’s great!”

James obeyed John’s suggestion and Alec burst out laughing. James had to cover his mouth and Q, despite himself, looked over.

In the picture the three Holmes boys stood covered in mud and rain at the side of the road, clearly bickering profusely and looking ridiculously dishevelled.

Mycroft and Sherlock were gesticulating at each other, and looking immensely awkward and frustrated. Mycroft pointed to Sherlock, hand holding a set of keys, the beta had hands up and eyes cast to heaven in an angry and wounded blame that seemed rather contrived. Beside them, Q was squatting next to the wheel of a rather battered looking car near enough on its side, tools in his mouth and more in his hands as he examined a dodgy looking wheel.

Q had to admit; it was a rather entertaining memory.

 

-00Q00-

 

They managed a pretty decent haul, present wise. Alec had given them both historic Russian guns for Q to bastardise with modernisation and James to cherish and polish. In return the alpha had received Q’s mystery pens and a rather expensive service for his motorbike from James.

Mycroft, ever the sensible one, had given them both rather fine scarves for when the weather dropped. The man had attempted to give the same to Sherlock and John too, which had made Sherlock kick up a fuss until Eve simply put the item on them both.

Sherlock had, of course, tried to find ‘useful’ gifts for most people, which John dutifully handed out with a slightly apologetic expression. Evidently the doctor was a bit embarrassed to have his name tied to the gifts.

Q received a bottle of rum for when he could drink again, something the omega rather hastily hid, blushing. James had only encountered Q’s love of rum a couple of times, as the quartermaster would drink it like a fish breathed water when occasion rose. For the agent Sherlock gave a compass. It was a fine compass, but given the historic look about it James suspected heavily that it was pinched. Rather than deter him, he rather enjoyed the old naval equipment the more for it.

Mycroft received cigarettes, and had a rather similar reaction to Q about it. Molly got a book labelled ‘ _How to Bag a Mate_ ’, which made her blush profusely and earned Sherlock several glares from John who clearly hadn’t known about that particular gift. Greg laughed until he received the same book, with a much more sympathetic expression from John who had evidently known about this one. Mrs. Hudson received a patterned teapot.

Evidently the pair of betas had already given their gifts to each other, if they did such a thing.

Eve and Mycroft handed each other something small and nearly invisible, but James could see the glint of cufflinks being exchanged for earrings.

There wasn’t too long allowed for presents however. By the time John was trying to look through the photos again Sherlock slammed a glass down dramatically on the table, swaying slightly.

“Enough! It’s time. Cluedo!” He barked out, a bit nonsensically. John groaned and some of the others looked apprehensive.

“Well look we can’t all play, I’ll sit this one-“

“I’ve brought two.” Sherlock interrupted Greg with savage pride. With some grumbling, the assembled guests divided into two sets of six.

It turned into a bit of a contest. James battled Alec for quadruple bluffs and fake hints whilst Molly drooped between them and Greg cheated with Mrs. Hudson, Kate managing to look supremely happy yet indifferent. The other table wasn’t fairing much better.

The Holmes brothers should not be allowed to play games together. They did not play nice.

“This is _my_ game, _my_ profession, of course I’m right.” Sherlock snapped.

“Dear dear Sherlock, we are slipping aren’t we?” Mycroft taunted, clearly trying to dupe his brother. Q, the devil, was cheating left right and centre without anyone seeming to notice. Irene had left herself blind to it with her rising fury over Sherlock and Mycroft’s methods.

“Can we not just play the game?” She stressed, having been waiting for a turn for twenty minutes.

“Just be glad he hasn’t suspected suicide yet.” John muttered mutinously, taking another large gulp of punch. Eve looked far too pleased with herself; she had managed to bribe Q’s tips by selling off Mycroft’s cards that she could read.

It descended into anarchy when none of the three brothers, James or Alec would let anyone win, and the game was cancelled.

“I call for Risk. All players to the board.” Mycroft ordered. Sherlock groaned and sneered but sat down. Q pounced on the green pieces and collected them for his army. James joined in whilst John beat a hasty retreat. Molly fell asleep on the Cluedo board. Greg nervously stepped up along with Alec. Eve, Irene and Kate looked on with amusement. Mrs. Hudson ‘helped’ Lestrade in the background.

“No cheating Alec!” Q snapped with offense, rigorously holding onto the continent of Australasia and all but biting Alec when the man tried to sneak extra men onto the board.

“How’d he see?” Alec muttered sulkily to James.

The game became increasingly heated as all players other than Holmes’ were eliminated and the three brothers pulled increasingly risky tactics. It all ended when Mycroft, rather fittingly, managed to move out of his captive Europe and Asia to cripple the United States. Wiping Sherlock’s armies off the board before descending on Q’s.

“Monopoly.” The omega hissed viciously at the end of the game. It would have been awful if James weren’t so bloody pissed. As it was, he and Alec topped up the alcohol all round –save for Q- and watched the madness.

The three brothers were now joined by a grudging John, Irene and Kate as a tag team and Mrs. Hudson. Greg defected in order to drink away the stress of the Risk game and Molly slept on, drooling slightly but now moved off the board game.

Finally, it seemed, Alec and James had managed to work their magic and hold up to the promise of getting the Holmes’ pissed enough to start loosing. Irene set up camp on Mayfair as Mycroft was pushed back to Old Kent Road. Q made a brave stand at the Strand and Leicester Square before being sent repeatedly to jail. Sherlock ran a tight business on the stations and Water Works before he landed on John’s infamous Pal Mal and Northumberland Avenue too many times in a row. Mrs. Hudson landed on Free Parking three times in succession, collected a small fortune, and collected double again when systematically everyone remaining seemed to land on Oxford Street and Regents Park.

Cooing with victory, as the Holmes brothers absolutely did not sulk, Mrs. Hudson kissed everyone on the cheek and helped herself to a large brandy from a tea mug.

At some point the Queen’s Speech was put on, and James found himself being the rigorous old fart that enforced everyone to watch. After that Q commandeered the TV for Doctor Who. Molly woke up long enough to suggest charades. James would never forget Alec trying to mime ‘Call the Midwife’ and Q desperately thinking of a way to act out ‘Sanders of the River’. The day dissolved into fits of hilarity and quite a few people falling over in their haste to act out a film book or show.

It was late, and most of the leftovers consumed by the time people started traipsing out in drunken dribs and drabs.

Irene and Kate left as untouched by alcohol as they had come, both grinning profusely. Eve corralled Mycroft into a waiting car but not before the alpha had kept clawing Q into a hug for ten minutes, refusing to let him escape.

Mrs. Hudson was escorted home by a worried looking Alec, who’d be right back, he insisted… but had also become responsible, along with just-sober Lestrade, for the drunken Sherlock, John and comatose Molly.

The door shut for a final time and James slumped back to the couch with Q. The flat was a mess.

“I’m exhausted.” Q laughed, rubbing his eyes and pushing glasses away. James sighed out long and satisfied, wrapping an arm around his mate and basking in the relieving quiet hum of the house and London outside.

“It was good.” He reflected simply, an immense feeling of content wrapping around him. The pair met gazes and shared a kiss before James sunk back into the couch with another sigh and Q dropped his head back with a huffed laugh.

Neither of them moved for a long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all gorgeous comments and kudos, and reading this far! I'm glad that the xmas time is over now, I've tried to be festive too long!  
> Officially Blasty's due date is February 4th, which was yesterday, I wanted to make it sync, but I failed 'xD
> 
> This is now over 250,000 words long and words cannot describe how ecstatic I am that this has gotten so long and people are enjoying it still 43 chapters later!  
> So I hope you lovely readers have a wonderful week or at least lots of laughter!
> 
> See you next chapter :)


	44. H0: Fresh air and Scottish sunshine; H1: Inappropriately challenging fencing is the bane of Q's life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omg, five story weeks left to go guys. Five. Weeks.  
> (basically I will have been writing this beautiful monster for a year. Go team go!)
> 
> Enjoy :)

On Tuesday the 31st December Q hit 35 weeks pregnant. And had to say his temporary goodbyes to his branch.

He’d left them in the best way possible. The last five days were a blur of activity and trying to get everyone up to speed with everything. R seemed a little daunted by how much Q actually _did_ when he had to hand over the clearance and information on some projects he was working on to his second in command. Some of the work Q fancied continuing at home, given that for the next month he’d be sitting around waiting for something to happen… And Christ. A month.

Q shook the thought away. R had two seconds in command to help him with the workload, and another four team heads under that in charge of the different aspects of Q branch. It seemed ironic to leave now, really, when he had finally managed to get Q Branch organised and into the state he’d always dreamed of.

Quite why it had taken him so long Q could only blame on himself. There had never before been a reason to suspect he wouldn’t be there himself, so he could handle it. Thankfully, James had gotten him pregnant, or else he still probably wouldn’t have sorted the place out.

When he’d become quartermaster his priority had been salvaging MI6’s security, he’d never really stopped that, it seemed. Even with the threat of Silva over, the shadow had lurked in his mind, and Q had never really deigned to trust anyone else to hold the place afloat.

To realise that he could, that he had a better team than he ever imagined and could organise a working department like this, it was as flattering as it was ridiculous. Ridiculous in the sense that he’d left it so long.

 _Hindsight_. Q shrugged to himself. Without a doubt he knew that nobody at the time could have convinced Q that there was a better option than running himself into the ground and taking on all responsibilities himself. There’d been far too much he was holding onto even just two years ago. Even James couldn’t tell him to take time off back then.

Maybe he’d needed to do it, slogging through the injuries of the explosion and doggedly continuing through the aftermath of that first heat because he’d never given another enough clearance to cover his illness. Maybe he’d just had a point to prove, or nothing else in his life to fight for. Whatever had driven him; Q was relieved to have come out the other side, to not need to be needed as much. It was hard being indispensible. It was much more enjoyable being integral.

Well… a bit of him still liked being indispensible, really. He couldn’t help it. But having his branch surrounding him in their final meeting and waving him off with glee or tears and hopes to return fast all round was uplifting and warming.

“You must send us pictures!” Called Mindy, bless her cotton socks, although the tears were surely unnecessary.

“And write.” Added Morgan.”

“I will, I will.” Q assured, tapping a few commands out to finish his final piece of in-office work for a few months. He was a bit more scared than he’d care to admit. R seemed to read it well enough, putting a hand on his shoulder and grinning.

“We’ll miss you, Q.” The vigorous and loud agreement of his branch brought a silly smile to his face that cracked through his controlled façade.

“Thank you, all of you. You’ve been, indispensible these past few months. Good work, all round.” It was as close as he could come to a group praising; he’d already tried to ensure most of the individuals were okay with the state of things before he left. It was at this point that R grinned and pulled a small package out of his pocket, the rest of the branch hurried and hastened to open draws and upend bags to do the same. Q blinked at the flurry of activity until one of the storage cupboards was opened and a small mattress fell out.

The packages went on top, some tiny, some long, some fabric-like. When the rather huge pile was completed his branch stood around grinning and looking like they’d consumed far too much coffee, all but squirming with collective excitement.

“…What,” Q queried, confused as he looked at the pile. R beamed next to him.

“Eve mentioned you needed some baby things.”

“Consider it an investment!” Offered Jean, his blunt but best programmer.

“For our future boss.” Added Kate, pink hair swinging.

“Or bosset!” Mindy insisted cheerfully.

“We left it for you to assemble, of course.” R pointed out, grinning.

“Wouldn’t want you to get bored sir!” Mathew joked, earning several laughs and chuckles.

Q grinned, unable to hide the expression from them. Really, his branch knew him too well, and he was itching to get his fingers into the pile of pieces.

“They made it themselves.” Piped up Louis Dior from the back, and just when 005 had entered Q had no idea, the man was still lethally silent. Although he was smiling right now. “I just provided the sheets.”

Q spied the bright, tropical patterned sheets and blankets and realised that at some point James must have described Q’s decorating habits to the man.

With a blinding smile on his face, and deep affection for his branch, Q thought that he’d never be leaving entirely, and it made it all the easier to walk out today.

 

-00Q00-

 

Three o’clock. That was when they were meant to be on their way. James had managed to scrape the last bits of dreaded paperwork off his desk before leaving to go and pack the car. Clearly, Q had had no idea what he would need for a for a holiday, given that he had tried to pack a full set of kitchen utensils for a week nowhere more savage than Scotland.

James had taken the liberty of re-packing Q’s bags. Ensuring that he had packed enough so that Q would be safe and comfortable no matter what the road or pregnancy threw at them. Personally, the alpha couldn’t wait to get on their way. He had waited long enough to get Q out of the damn country. Right now he’d even accept Norfolk as a holiday destination, or Cornwall, if it meant he’d be taking Q somewhere further afield than the reaches of the 50 miles circular of London.

“Are you sure we don’t need the pots and pans?” Q fretted from the door of the house, evidently clinging onto ‘civilisation’ for as long as he could.

“We’re not going to Antarctica Q.” James pointed out as he shut the boot, but smiled none the less.

“I know, but what if we break down?” James snorted a bit and turned to him, holding out a hand.

“Then we’ll call the _AA_ and I’ll ensconce you in a travel lodge for the week. Now come on.” James coaxed Q down from the steps with an outstretched hand. The omega frowned a bit apprehensively, checked the door was locked briefly and gripped the rails as he came down. James smiled at the sight; Q was dressed comfortably and looked ready for either sitting in a car or exploring fells if the situation presented itself. Excitement lit his pulse in the winter sun.

“Well, Scotland, here we come.” Q murmured, accepting James’ hand for the last step and then tracing his fingers along the shining metal of the Aston as he ventured round to the passenger door. James grinned and settled in behind the wheel, setting off with a pleasant roar of the engine as Q smirked over at him.

 

-00Q00-

 

London was gradually left behind, the city thinning out as they hit the motorway and gradually departed the suburbs. Q relaxed further into the seat the further they got from the busyness and stress of the city. James could barely stop smiling.

Their path wended gradually north, through smaller cities and towns, further into fielded country and rolling hills.

Q looked around sharply at one point, trailing a turnoff with his eyes. James realised that it would have taken the omega towards his old home. After that, Q settled back into the seat with an almost relieved sigh, limbs relaxed as he gazed at the road before them.

“Further than you’ve ever gone?” Q shot him a look, but smiled through it as he sat up to grab some snacks from the back that James had wisely packed.

“I’ve been all the way to Ireland, remember?” James grinned.

“Drunk. On rum. And not by car. Besides, I’m much better company than your brother and a dozen enabling sailors.” Q’s gaze met his eyes directly, the shining sunset causing the green to glow like summer.

“Yes, you are.” James had to tear his eyes back to the road in front of him. Already his blood was thrumming with adventure and the pure sense of _time_. He hadn’t even been on the road with Q for two hours yet.

“Why don’t you put some music on?” James suggested, gesturing at the sound system. Q’s eyes finally fell away and he busied himself with setting the radio to something background and thumping gently, nodding along a little.

James thought that he wanted to have the man in sunglasses and in a car with the roof down, wind pushing his hair back and up in a disorganised whirl that wouldn’t brush out. The sun beating down on them warm, shirt buttons open. Maybe the scent of the sea on the air…

 _Summer_. James decided, nodding to himself as his hands tightened on the wheel. _I’ll take him somewhere warm. Even if it’s only France._

A sideways glance at Q’s slightly smiling face, one of his partner’s hands rubbing his belly gently, sent a new addition to the image in his mind… Q turning around, hair whipping around as he spun grinning to address a joyful squeal from the back, a tiny tot with wild hair and arms raised in delight at the air and speed, squinting eyes in manic joy against the wind and trails of hair. Q grinning, laughing at some joke from James, their pup beaming at them both and trying to catch the air flying past…

He had no words to describe the bone deep warmth and excitement the image granted him.

Another look at Q’s relaxed, smiling face and James couldn’t resist pushing the button to drop the window just for a sneak preview. Q spluttered as cold air snapped in and whooshed his hair back in a dramatic furl, stamping on the button to raise the window on his own side.

“James?!” Q turned to him, spluttering still, the alpha couldn’t help grinning playfully.

“Sorry, couldn’t resist.”

Q’s responding smirk was all danger and cunning and James spared a moment to felt he thrill of challenge before the radio blasted out a high-pitched female singer at a volume so loud that even neighbouring cars stared at them.

 

“SHIT!” James swore in shock. Q laughed in delight and mischief at causing the slip in James’ suave demeanour, clapping his hands in a way that was adorably carefree. James smirked and, after turning the offending song down, reached out to press the lever at the side of Q’s seat. The omega slid down to nearly horizontal with an ‘oof’ of surprise and swatted at James’ laughing shoulder.

The next few miles were passed in a potentially dangerous game of car-pranks involving the air conditioning, windscreen wipers and more than once the horn. Maybe not the most mature of journeys, James reflected, wrestling one-handed with Q for the control of the voice system on the sat nav and laughing through their growled play-threats.

He reflected a bit on the fact that any child in the back would either be subjected to complete embarrassment at their activities or a spectacularly bad pair of role models.

No, not the most mature of journeys, but by far one of the most enjoyable ones. And that was more than enough for James.

 

-00Q00-

 

“Do you mind? I can wait, I don’t want to be demanding-“

“I want you to be demanding.” James interrupted, already turning for a lay by. Q quirked a quick, slightly embarrassed smile, and hefted himself with a bit of difficulty out of the car. James got out to join him, watching between Q and the scenery as the omega stretched and rubbed his aching back and belly. After a few deep breaths Q looked over at him.

“Are you sure you want me to be demanding?” James fixed his mate with the most serious look his blue eyes could capture.

“As demanding as you can be. You’ve barely demanded anything in the last seven months. Q puffed out a breath.

“If you’re sure…”

“Positive.”

With the sun setting, and his mate looking a bit more comfortable and with a small, pleased smile on his face, the pair set off again.

Quickly James realised, and would thank the gods for it throughout his holiday, that he was extremely lucky to have a male omega for a mate.

Q could piss on the side of any road without James feeling absolutely guilty for subjecting him to the lack of facilities. Which was good, because Q needed to relieve himself a lot. And other times just needed to stretch his cramping legs.

Lengthy car travel was not great for heavily pregnant people, evidently.

James had at least had the foresight to pack alcohol gel and hand wipes, although it was true he had packed these in case Q went into premature labour, they came in handy with the many pit stops. Rather than being annoyed by the slow progress James found himself happily breathing in the relaxing and cool dusk air of each different location, happily planning their next stop and getting immense satisfaction from being able to provide Q with the stops he needed.

By the time they crossed the boarder and eventually reached the lodge they would be staying in on the shores of Loch Lomond, Q was close to sleep and James was happily drived out for the day.

A year ago he would have taken the time to explore the new surroundings, or at least the inside, first. Maybe have a celebratory drink. Instead he found himself only too happily following Q to the bedroom and changing before falling into bed together. Q slept almost instantly, if fitfully, and the alpha would be lying if he said he hadn’t done the same. Lulled by the sleepy scent of Q and the relaxing freshness of their Scottish surroundings.

 

-00Q00-

 

Q couldn’t quite believe his surroundings. He’d been expecting fog, to be honest. Well, there was some fog, but between it were some of the most intense colours he’d seen. The landscape was really quite gorgeous.

Of course, standing on a brisk balcony with a mug of tea in his hands and a mostly naked James Bond in front of him did nothing to hurt the view. Nothing whatsoever.

The omega smirked to himself behind the rim of his cup, clearing his throat slightly so that James turned around, a bit perturbed to find he had an audience for nothing more exotic than a morning stretch.

“Morning, lovely view.” Q teased, unable to keep the teasing lilt from his voice. James smirked, entirely pleased.

“Minx. Come here,” Q happily padded over to James, unwilling to relinquish the hold on his tea whilst slotting contentedly into waiting arms. The alpha hummed as he ruffled large hands up the woollen knit of Q’s large belly-covering jumper.

“Aren’t you wearing a bit too much?” Came the teasing suggestion. Q raised an eyebrow, not about to be coerced into less than three layers when standing outside in the middle of January in Scotland.

“No.”

“Shame, I thought the view could do with improving.” James grinned, voice managing to carry a slight pout. Q sniffed a little haughtily.

“The only way you’re getting me out of clothes is inside and by the fire. You can admire the view from there.” James snorted, eyes bright and blue and alive in a way that wasn’t quite captured in London. Q could only too easily reflect how simple it must be for his mate’s numerous ex-conquests to fall in love with him. Ex, he reminded himself, smirking in a rather prideful manner and butting his head up under James’ chin affectionately. The man huffed a laugh, unknowing of Q’s less-than-innocent antics, and wrapped arms around the omega’s, warmth seeping through the layers where his hands pressed on shoulder blades.

Q had James all to himself for a week. No MI6, no distractions. He fully intended to enjoy it…

Inside, in the warm, that is.

 

-00Q00-

 

It didn’t take James long to learn that travelling with a pregnant Q put some very specific limitations on just what they could do.

Q, as it turned out, was very, _very_ pregnant. Given that his mate was 35 weeks gone, just five weeks shy of their official due date, James probably should have expected this.

“James I _can't_.” James huffed, trying to fight down the annoyance and mild horror at the thought of having to call out Mountain Rescue to a nondescript hill in Scotland to get his mate over a style. With hands held out and up in an attempt to coax Q further over the wooden fence break, James tried to be encouraging.

“You made it over the first time.” He pointed out. Q scowled at him, balanced precariously as he was a foot from the ground on some slippery wood, boots caked with mud.

“I didn’t know it would be that difficult.” Q griped, unimpressed, as he carefully tried to heft himself onto the plank above whilst encountering his new inflexibility and hefty bulk. James darted forwards and tried to help steady him. “This is bloody hard!” Q snapped, frustrated himself. The disgruntled tone caused James to re-locate his sense of humour at seeing his usually composed mate foiled by some crafty planking.

“Should I call the air force?” Q did not look best pleased at the suggestion. James quickly held his tongue, trying not to laugh. With a final Olympic effort the omega managed to swing a leg over and quickly found his foot slipping on the mud-slick wood the other side. The alpha lunged and managed to grab Q but not entirely halt the fall.

James ended up on his back in the mud, Q sitting on his muscled stomach and looking torn between lingering irritation and amusement. It was hardly the agent’s most impressive moment.

“Maybe we should just get back to the car.” James admitted in grumbling defeat. Q smiled beatifically.

“I think that would be for the best. Fish and chips?” James grunted in agreement, mind already scanning ahead for a nice place to take Q. together they stumbled upwards and back down the heather covered track to where they’d parked the car for their walk.

Putting their muddy outer layers in the boot caused James some visceral pain. A sly glance over at Q to see how much more mud would be going into his lovely Aston changed his feelings to the situation slightly.

Without knowing James was observing, Q was looking over at him whilst removing welly boots, an intensely fond look on his face at James’ grumbling and soft smile lighting up his vivid green eyes. A little bit of mud was a small price to pay, he supposed.

 

-00Q00-

 

There was something to be said for the landscape. Q took out the spy-camera he’d picked up from work and wound the window down as they drove down long, gradually winding empty roads. The clouds parted just enough every now and then to let down sunbeams in pale colours to highlight the rich tones in the surroundings. If one came out good enough, he’d frame it in the living room. That and, he was on something of a mission this trip.

With nothing much on his mind except for savouring possibly his and James’ last true stretch of unhindered time alone, Q wanted to remember it. The next few weeks Q knew he’d probably revert to an anxious and nearly due person, they both probably would. There was a lot to get ready and only a few weeks to do it. Until then, and with the pictures James had procured for Christmas on his mind, Q wanted more.

One nice picture, at least, of just the two of them. They didn’t have nearly enough, and this was their first trip together. He wanted it commemorated, even if it seemed a strangely mundane thing to do.

He didn’t want his only pictures of his family to be monochrome and faded in a book.

“There’s a timer, just…stand…there, perfect!”

Q clicked the timer as James slid into position centre screen and waded through the mud with a waddle to get beside him. The useful thing about Scotland: there was always a handy rock or fence to take pictures on with a gorgeous backdrop.

They’d driven out to Glencoe, the scene of a brutal ancient clan savagery. The place was eerie, a valley surrounded on nearly all sides by huge sweeping mountains of burnt umber colours and mist-dark greens. Stumbling into position Q slotted in beside James, his mate’s arm raised to wrap around shoulders as his own sneaked around a wool-wrapped waist.

“Smile.” Q ordered, pleasantly.

“Only if you do.” James replied, voice stretched around the wanted expression. Q tried not to laugh. They weren’t really very good at this yet. Q assumed they’d get better, or hoped it.

The last few pictures had been truly awful. He’d tried one at every note-worthy scenery or location and then the pair of them proceeded to laugh over their fixed faces or disgruntled, wind-blown expressions over lunch. And that was only if they had the words to speak through laughter. There had been one taken outside yesterday’s fish and chip-stop lunch where Q looked truly psychotic. James hadn’t faired much better in one Q had sneaked when the pair had been out on a boat on the loch.

The alpha’s constantly tightly panicked expression about having Q anywhere on a boat had occasionally warped into a frightening sort of glee at being on a boat. Oddly, neither expression had been altogether flattering. Q thought he’d probably keep a few anyway. James had looked particularly disgruntled in a life jacket.

The camera light before them flashed brightly in the deep scenery and Q hurried forwards to check, missing the amused and affectionate smile James grew on his face, hands in his pockets as he watched. The camera that Q accidently pressed again however, didn’t miss a thing.

The picture would be one Q treasured for a lifetime.

 

-00Q00-

 

Edinburgh was always attractive, and the weather had broken by Saturday when the pair made their trip there. The ancient castle on the mount inspired another bout of pictures from Q. James tried to coerce his mate up the many-staired Scott Monument only to force the omega back down when, a floor up, the winding staircase became decidedly questionable.

The seafood was excellent and Q managed to force James onto a ghost walk in the evening, it turned out better than either expected, to be honest.

James managed to find a place to take Q out dancing in the evening, though it proved to be a mute point when Q sat down and then refused to get up again on grounds of exhaustion.

The pregnancy was telling on Q, but the omega’s spirits were so high that James wasn’t unduly worried. Still, he didn’t want to risk anything by having Q strain himself.

They started driving towards their final Scottish destination later that night. James happily let Q slumber beside him as he drove to their hotel.

He’d enjoyed himself far too much, and the week had surprised him. Q was entirely up for a bit of adventure and exploring, if quick to tire and easily getting fed up with his fatigue. The future seemed bright with possibilities now that he knew how much fun it was to travel with Q.

On Tuesday they’d travel back, but first, James felt he was long overdue seeing a good friend.

 

-00Q00-

 

Skyfall was still, two years later, utterly desecrated. Only the stag-topped pillars remained before the view turned down towards a pile of re-grown grass and slowly plant-cultivated rubble.

James tried not to let the sight affect him. But it was hard after all this time to see the sight. Not because of the house, Christ he hadn’t been lying when he said he hated the place, but because of the memories it evoked of M. Try as he might, the agent doubted that he could ever put those memories completely behind him. He chanced a glance over in Q’s direction, catching a surprisingly sombre look that scanned over the rubble and directly to the old church in the distance.

Of course, Q was probably mentally replaying it as much as James was. There hadn’t been any comms on that disastrous salvage attempt of a bait mission, but the after action report had become almost legendary. Even Alec had huffed out an impressed breath, speechless, when James let the man read it.

Q had been one of the first humans James had taken the time to notice upon his return to London. He’d been a single striking figure in a long, windswept black coat standing off to the side in the graveyard. Near the street, closest to technology and cars but looking unblinkingly over at James, meeting his piercing blue gaze. With a green one of his own, no less.

Their relationship may be very different now, and had been before that, so much more trivial… In that moment James had recognised something of a kindred spirit in Q. They’d both made the call, effectively. They’d both gotten where they were thanks to the woman lying underneath the cold ground. Everyone else tiptoed around him on eggshells, and maybe it was the drugs Q was on for the injuries the explosion had given him, but there was no fear of him in those eyes.

Only fear and a frighteningly harsh knowledge of just what they’d done. They’d saved lives, stopped the game, but at a price. For the first time, James didn’t feel alone in a kill. The death of Silva affected Q differently yes, but no less potently. It was the first time he’d possibly believed someone off the battlefield could share that specific pain.

Later, a few weeks later, James nearing the end of his compulsory leave, he’d cornered Q outside MI6 for a drink that the other suggested. Q didn’t look so young anymore. Had hinted at the levity brought on by his first feeling of total control when they went behind the government, national security and the Queen together.

 _‘Something like flying with wings on fire.’_ Q had said. _‘You’re terrified to stop and burn but know you’ll only crash land in the end.’_

Knowing Q as he did now, the grim expression, cigarette in mouth, made a lot more sense. Back then, James had just been glad to have someone to drink and think dark thoughts with.

Only when Q had stood up, the waft of air from under his flapping coat had smelt of more promise than just camaraderie… he’d started smelling a bit more like omega again.

James blinked his eyes from the images and memory of grim times, lest the two of them started feeding off each other’s sombre energies.

Alec had driven by Skyfall on his own, James knew. Curious and determined to see the scene of the events. In the same way that James appreciated that; his friend’s silent solidarity, he appreciated being able to drive past the gates with Q.

Kincaid lived a little way away, and he had no desire to pick over the bones of Skyfall on their way, although he had no doubt that Q would want to go on some sort of semi-morbid exploration of the ruins. James would probably have to let him. He’d gotten to lurk in the remnants of Q’s old house, after all.

 

-00Q00-

 

Rather surprisingly, the drive to Skyfall hadn’t been as grim as Q had expected it to be.

Well, yes, Skyfall itself had been pretty grim, and neither he nor James had said a word on it. But Kincaid’s house, a quaint cottage size with a rather impressive hunting shed, was anything but depressing.

After the long drive Q had been a bit stiff getting out the car, but they’d been welcomed by a cheerily grinning older man, alpha, and gestured inside.

“James, James, James.” The man clapped hands on James’ shoulders, receiving a clap to the arm in return, before his expression downturned comically. “You’re not bringing more murderous hackers in helicopters after you this time?”

Rather than cause an awkward silence or growl, James grinned at the man’s darkly humoured suggestion and turned slightly back to Q, looking over in introduction.

“Just the one, and he wont even get on a plane.” Kincaid’s eyebrows rose at both the gentle, amused tone, and the sight of Q, who endeavoured not to shift in the slightest. Which was hard, given that his back was killing him and he really needed to piss.

“I’m not surprised, given the shape of him. Kincaid,” the man greeted, coming a step closer and extending a hand out in greeting. “Welcome to Scotland.” Q stepped forwards and freed a hand from a coat pocket to return the gesture.

“Q, pleasure to meet you.” He greeted, throwing on a smile that hopefully didn’t betray his increasing need for the bathroom. Kincaid shook Q’s hand for a moment longer, raising eyebrows over at James.

“And he’s polite, don’t know how a heathen like you finds ‘em. And another one with a weird name too.” James grimaced a bit whilst Q grinned over at his mate, the light teasing setting him somewhat at ease. There was a gentle tug of his hand and then an arm settled between his shoulder blades with a pat.

“Come on, in with you. Got a warm fire going and its bitter outside.” Q supposed he could forgive the rather overly chivalrous action for the promise of fire.

“Can I get you two a drink? Tea?” Definitely forgiven.

 

-00Q00-

 

James wondered if he might not regret bringing Q to see Kincaid.

“I tell no lie boy, when I found him, he was stuck in the tree by his breeches, and still hadn’t managed to reach the cat.” Q’s laughing was only spurring Kincaid’s malign attempts to embarrass James. The omega looked between them both, flushed with surprised amusement and holding his stomach from all the laughter rending him weak. They seemed to get on like a house on fire.

Kincaid was chivalrous, but respectful of Q’s pride, and wrapped everything up in such a gruff bow that James had seen him manage to gently nudge Q towards the bedroom when the younger man was swaying on his feet the night before without raising any ire. It was good seeing him again.

“Well, am I going to be a Granddaddy then?” The man asked, jokingly, at lunch on Sunday, before jerking his thumb in James’ direction. “All but raised him and all.” Q had smiled, rubbing his belly absently, and turned to the man.

“Tell me about him.” He’d asked with a quiet intrigue and smile. That had been all the enticement Kincaid had needed. James’ own groan had gone without heed, though he couldn’t bring himself to feel too embarrassed really. Not with Q gazing at him, laughing, like he was made of gold. It seemed Kincaid’s mission to make Q laugh as much as possible before leaving, and James had absolutely no problem with that.

Besides, it was true; the man practically had raised him.

“You two are good for each other then, plain to see. Treat him right mind. And make sure he does the same to you, else wise I’ll come down and bash both your heads together.” A rough but simple statement.

“Duly noted.” James replied, amused smirk in his voice as they both grabbed the drinks for their pub lunch, Q bagging a table just in view of the telly.

“And that bairn too, got any idea what it’s like?”

“The sex? No. Last surprise.” Kincaid grinned and toasted James with his beer.

“That’s my boy. Your parents never knew with you either. Mother was convinced you were a darling girl before out you popped.” He clapped James on the shell-shocked shoulder and chortled all the way over to the table. Q looked up and furrowed brows at him.

“James?”

“Oh don’t worry, just had a bit of a shock to the system. Now, what are you thinking about names? Might there be a Justine among us? Or possibly a Jasmine?” Teased the old dog. James growled and set his mug down on the table with finality.

“There will be no _Justines_.” Kincaid howled with laughter at the ire he’d managed to raise and Q just looked a bit worried and confused.

He was not going to name his child simply a different sexed version of a name. Even if they had thought he was a girl. Stull a bit ruffled by Kincaid’s ongoing amusement of popping his pride bubble, James nudged into Q for attention a bit grumpily. With a soft huff and a warm smile the omega dragged his head close enough to nuzzle briefly and massage through his hair in that wonderful way.

After a moment of contemplation, he decided to never bring even the vaguest suggestion of what had led to that conversation to Q. He didn’t want to run the risk of having an Asteria in the family if Q thought it a brilliant idea.

 

-00Q00-

The pair was kept quite happily in Kincaid’s home for a couple of days before bidding the old alpha farewell.

“I’ll be round to visit mind. Meet the nipper.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.” James replied, gripping Kincaid’s hand firmly in goodbye. Q shared another handshake with the man too, Kincaid never one for meaningless crowding, and agreed with his mate.

“Always welcome, thank you for letting us stay.”

“Ah pish.” The alpha waved off, causing both younger men to smile at the casual flippancy of not accepting a compliment. “I’m glad to do it and all, now get going before it gets dark. And find this young man a nice stop on the road this time. No more pissing in bushes.”

It was hard to tell who was being reprimanded, but both grinned regardless and piled into the waiting car to set off home. After a few minuets drive, James broke the comfortable silence.

“So, what did you think?”

“Of Kincaid? Utterly charming, in a gruff way. Knew you had to get it from somewhere.” Q grinned over.

“And of Scotland?” James asked next, wondering why he even voiced the question.

“Bloody perfect.” Q purred out as he stretched languidly, grin on his lips. After relaxing back into the seat a long fingered hand dropped to rest on James’s leg, thumb circling slightly, in a silent thank you.

The alpha’s chest swelled with the warmth of it and sense of accomplishment.

Next time, they’d have their pup with them.

Maybe Alec too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm starting to realise that there are probably a few things I won't have time to write in this story. Which is ironic given its length!  
> But hey, look how nice things have been for 00Q in the last few chapters. No crying or anything!... There's absolutely no reason for this to make you suspicious and worried. None at all... ;3 hehe I may be joking...
> 
> Anyway as you can probably tell from this chapter I'm a little bit in love with Scotland, and I'm really happy to finally get to write Kincaid!
> 
> Thank you for reading and for your stunning comments and kudosing last chapter! I laughed and flailed at inappropriate moments, consider yourselves winners! Hope you enjoyed and see you next chapter :D


	45. H0: Better prepared; H1: Rest not assured.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's right EARLY!!!  
> In exciting news I'm living in a new room! In slightly aggravating yet unexpected news the internet connection is fairly shocking still 'xD oh well, hey ho.  
> Please enjoy!

The big downhill stretch. Q was starting to feel a rather nauseating mix of anxious and excited. Every week now he had a doctors appointment, and Darcy was quick to inform him of just how swift the decline would be after taking his usual measurements.

“Very good, you should start to keep off your feet a bit more now. Gentle exercise is good for you but try to have someone with you. Your pelvis is going to start loosening up pretty quick now.” He added with a warm smile, as if this were great news. Or news at all. Q had just about managed Scotland, and loved nearly every minute, but it seemed to have come at a price.

“My legs feel very shaky sometimes, from the hips and back in particular. Is that why?” The doctor frowned in heightened concentration and nodded.

“Yes, that’s the sacroiliac joints starting to lubricate and prepare to dislocate. If you find yourself unable to stand entirely or experience any pain or pinched nerve feelings please come right in or call.” The man looked Q up and down appraisingly. “You might be starting to loosen a little early, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing. The more relaxed all your joints get the easier birth will be.”

It sounded anything but reassuring to Q. None the less he nodded in understanding.

“Right.” Darcy nodded in return and fixed Q with a serious look.

“Never the less, I’d like you to try and have company most of the time, and certainly try not to leave the house alone if you can. You may not feel it but it can take very little to set off a premature birth or adverse effect at this point. And especially if your legs have started shaking already, it means your body is becoming more vulnerable. Don’t be surprised if you find yourself less tolerant of bodily stress right now. Just make sure you and your mate are sensible. And please let me know if the shaking becomes severe or there are other mobility changes.” The man took a breath.

“Most likely scenario, you’re looking to be due a little early, but it’s an impossible science to predict.”

He almost wished he hadn’t brought it up, now that he had more to worry about. Q was even annoyingly nervous about taking the cab home alone, lest he collapse somewhere and ended up giving birth in the street. Shuddering, and forcing down the panicked internal shout of _‘I’m not ready!’_ Q attempted to carry on as normal until James got home.

Feeling not a little reminiscent of waiting to tell James he was pregnant, Q sat on the couch –unwilling to risk the stairs alone- and allowed himself the small luxury of watching old doctor who episodes whilst rubbing his stomach.

“Please let me know if you’re about to pop out so I can call your dad… Come to think of it, please don’t be too early at all. Not that we don’t want to see you… but to tell you the truth I’m nervous. I’m trying not to be, but I am…” Q slouched down in the seat slightly; news that his tiny pup might be early sparking off the remainders of anxieties he thought he’d conquered.

“I really hope we’re good enough for you little pup.”

 

-00Q00-

 

“Early?” James got out, almost sounding angry, when Q told him later that evening.

“That’s what the doctor said, though it could also mean nothing.” He could tell James was shocked, maybe a little scared, the man looking a little caught out. Q could practically see the cogs spinning in James’ head, plans of how to be there in case of an early birth.

“We don’t need to worry, I’ve not even felt any Braxton Hicks. We’ll just try to continue as normal.”

“Normal? Q, you’re telling me you’re struggling to stand.” Q shot a slightly impatient look at James.

“I’m not an invalid.” The sharp words seemed to cut through James’ rising panic. With a deep breath and sigh the alpha smiled a bit.

“I know you’re not, but I worry, you said you’d allow me to worry.” James buttered, sliding next to Q on the couch and wrapping calming arms around him. The omega breathed a sigh of his own and dropped his head to James’ shoulder.

“Sorry. I’m worried too.” James made a soft shushing noise.

“You don’t need to worry Q.”

“But how do we know we’ll-“

“We’ve got each other, we can manage a baby. We’ll have each other.” The reminder managed to soothe Q deeper than he’d thought possible. He huffed a small laugh.

“Well, we’ll be okay then, wont we.”

“We’ll be unflappable.” Q failed not to laugh at that one.

 

-00Q00-

 

Joking aside, James was starting to become stunned by how much Q’s mobility had changed since Scotland. There had been a few times when Q waited for him before going upstairs, or wavered on his feet unsteadily. It was like he hadn’t used his muscles in too long.

Protective instincts constantly at the surface, James was loath to leave Q’s side.

One up side however, was that Q was aware enough of his own likelihood to fall that he had taken greatly to sitting down. Something James was thankful for, as he had been worried to leave Q alone and possibly tinkering with electrics whilst he worked. But there were coding jobs Q helped along, a couple of phone calls from branch, and the cot that the minions had provided to be assembled.

Q was at least happily busy with his resting jobs.

Coming home to find Q cross-legged in the nursery wardrobe (as they’d coined it) with half a cot assembled before him and a well-worn jumper on was a good sight.

“How goes it?” James asked, stripping casually in the bedroom since Q had announced his presence upstairs.

“Mm, well.” Q smiled over, removing screws from his mouth and focusing back on a piece of railing he was turning over in his hands. “You know they went and rigged the bloody thing to our fingerprints and DNA. Looks like wood, but its actually very intelligent sensors.” Q informed, voice vague as he appreciated the ingenuity. James digested what he’d heard, half way out of his trousers, before contemplating it entirely.

“Does that mean Alec’s going to get shocked if he tries to pick the pup up?”

“I can re-program it. Besides, it doesn’t actually shock, that would be dangerous in case someone had already picked Blasty up. Just sends us an alert.”

“Hmm, useful.” James approved. There was a moment of silence before Q burst out laughing and turned to James, tears in his eyes.

“You do realise that any normal parents would think we were entirely over reactive.” James just grinned and moved over to kiss Q’s head, bending down with hands rubbing his mate’s shoulders.

“You clearly don’t know enough about people. Any ‘normal parent’ would be furiously jealous.” The concept appealed to every level of James’ neuroses.

And that was an impressive feat.

 

-00Q00-

 

Jostling and repetitive shifting woke James up drowsily. A glance at the clock to his right claimed two in the morning. Q was groaning and turning over beside him, hands scrubbing his face in annoyance.

“Uuhhg gooooodd.”

“Hey, you alright?” James questioned, propping himself up on one arm and using the other to stroke Q’s belly. Given the rather violent series of movements underneath his hand, James was both put at ease and sympathetic.

Rumbles had been living up to its namesake all night, and Q hadn’t gotten much sleep. At James’ question the omega dropped his hands to the pillow, looking up with half-lidded, unimpressed eyes.

“Maybe I should install a treadmill in there.” Q responded grimly, hair ruffled and shadows beginning to grow under his eyes.

Last night hadn’t been great either. When it wasn’t Rumbles it was Q’s bladder, or leg cramps, or backache.

“I’m fine, it will go. This too shall pass.” Q muttered a bit incoherently, eyelids drooping. James stayed rubbing the swell of pup in Q’s belly for a few minutes, bending down to press a kiss there. All was calm for a while before another kick jolted James’ hand and woke Q.

The omega’s expression pinched before he slowly breathed through the pain. James stroked the swollen flesh rhythmically and tried to calm the exercising pup.

“Easy little one, Mummy’s got to sleep too." Q laughed quietly and reached down to stroke James’ head in thanks.

Together they drifted off into sleep along with Rumbles, although James half guiltily only fully woke once more in the night. Whilst he dosed Q experienced a much more fitful sleep.

By the time it was late enough to excuse waking, Q was curled on his side, miserably exhausted and keeping stoically silent. Running a hand through sweat-damp hair though indicated to James that Q couldn’t be feeling comfortable.

“You alright?” The dawn light glanced over them from a chink in the curtains and Q blinked heavily up at him.

“I could go for a bath. Could you go for a bath?” James nodded, mentally pushing back the time he needed to arrive at work.

“I could go for a bath.”

As it turned out, a bath was not on the cards however.

Q stumbled when getting out of bed, sitting back down with a small ‘oomph’ and putting a hand on his lower back.

“Maybe a shower instead. If I sit down in hot water I don’t think I’ll ever get back up.” James scooted over on the bed to sit beside Q, hands slowly finding the omega’s pelvis and massaging gently.

“Unsteady?” He questioned.

“Mmm. Mornings are usually worse, all that time lying down.” With all the practice he’d had learning Q’s body, it wasn’t hard to tell that there was just more give around the bones than usual. He didn’t want to press hard enough to damage anything, but Q’s pelvis almost flexed under his hands.

 _Not long now_. He thought, and turned to kiss Q’s temple. With a sigh the younger man dropped his head into the line of James’ throat, tilting till he could breathe in the scent of alpha. James massaged slowly as Q breathed against him, warm skin pressing together in the cooling air.

“Do you want me to stay at home today?” Q shook his head, though he didn’t move away.

“I’ve got you on call, maybe I’ll just… not do much today.”

“Good idea.” James agreed with relief. It took a slow levering process to get Q standing and he stumbled into James a bit, legs shaking.

“Sure you shouldn’t sit down?” Q whined a tiny sound but shook his head again.

“It only gets better if I move around.” They managed a shower, and true to his word Q was standing unaided at the end, thought still tired out.

James bundled Q into thick socks and warm pyjamas, one of his own jumpers and got him situated under a blanket on the sofa. It simply felt safest to leave Q downstairs where everything was on one level.

“You sure you’ll be-“ Q laughed through a yawn and smiled, TV turned onto some movie channels. The green eyes that looked up at him were considerably more lucid, if still a bit shadowed.

“Go, I’ll be fine.” Q encouraged. James breathed out some of his tension, managing to smile bravely. The urge to force Q into a nest and guard him would probably look a touch over the top.

“Text me, will you.” James half requested, half ordered as he slowly backed towards the front door. Q grinned gently over at his mate’s antics.

“We will.”

True to his word Q messaged James no less than eight times throughout the day, each time with a picture of his bump involved in a new activity. Watching a film, balancing a mug of tea, surrounded by lunch… And one particularly amusing time balancing a mobile that had an incoming call from Mycroft displayed on the screen.

Under the picture Q had typed _‘Fielding my brothers’ calls already. How very like his parents.’_

James had to quickly remind his new trainees that just because he was chuckling at a picture did not mean he wasn’t paying attention.

 

-00Q00-

 

Eve organised baby showers the same way Alec set explosives; precisely, and with an underlying sense of malicious glee. It was one of the few times Q was very very glad he was 36 going on 37 weeks pregnant, and therefore exempt from the more violent and acrobatic of the party games.

“Mycroft, left foot red.” He didn’t even try to hide his satisfied entertainment. Mycroft was currently stretched over Alec, under John and face to face with Sherlock. Eve was giggling behind John, her and Beth having formed a ‘secret’ pact that let them use the same spots and Mathew was glaring at James, both of them currently only with one foot on the board and looking comparatively composed. Although the older alpha did look a little put off at the younger’s vehement glaring.

Daniel had excused himself from this game after enduring hide and seek and sardines with his children for the seekers ‘helping’ Q. The other omega was now making up some drinks for the other players along with Mrs. Hudson, who got a free pass for most things because of her hip.

“I fail to see the point in this game.” Mycroft grumbled.

“Oh I think I see some appeal.” Sherlock commented as he watched Mycroft struggle.

“It’s meant to be fun bear.” Eve commented in angelic tones.

“Yeah teddy! Its fun!” Mycroft openly grimaced at Beth’s nickname for him… Especially as Stuart began squealing and calling ‘teddy teddy’ over and over again from his safe perch on Q’s lap. The omega was trying not to giggle too loudly when he spun the dial and announced ‘James, right hand blue’, but it was very difficult. Especially since John seemed to be only barely holding back hysterics at Mathew and James’ expressions and kept catching Q’s eye.

“Didn’t know you had a secret admirer.” He commented after the game, Eve and Alec nursing several bruises whilst Mycroft appeared to have escaped miraculously unscathed. Mathew was following James around the house in a manner more befitting a stalking predator than a nine-year-old boy.

“Are you really having baby in fwour weeks?” Beth asked, clinging to Q’s stomach as they all ate lunch.

“Bahbey!” Stewie chorused, flinging his hands in the air and nearly getting Q covered in whatever baby food of the day was on the menu. The little omega’s vocabulary seemed to have started increasing exponentially since they last met. Daniel was looking on proudly.

“You still haven’t wanted to find out the sex yet?” He asked, firmly pulling Mathew to sit down _not_ facing James, who was muttering darkly with Alec in a back corner. Q grinned a bit sheepishly at Daniel and went to shift Stuart off his lap in order to go and comfort his alpha somewhat, but the young pup wouldn’t allow it. With a sigh and apologetic look at James he resigned himself to his fate as stand-in cushion.

“I’m curious, but we’ve made it this far.” Mycroft sat down next to Q, edging away a bit from the young female alpha trying to grab at him with jammy hands. Eve snorted fondly in the corner. Sherlock mirrored Mycroft on Q’s other side and fixed his younger brother with a rather intense look.

“Have you come up with _any_ names yet?” Mycroft asked a bit desperately. Their lack of decisiveness in all areas seemed to be a central point of stress for the eldest Holmes.

“I’ve come up with several suggestions. As has John.” Sherlock intoned, withdrawing a list from his pocket with dramatic severity.

“Oh and I helped dear.” Mrs’ Hudson called over from where she had seated herself next to Mathew, cooing a bit. The young alpha puffed up his chest and proceeded to be immensely chivalrous, pouring tea for the elderly omega and complimenting her dress. Mrs. Hudson was evidently charmed. Alec laughed at James’ sour expression and Daniel rolled his eyes at his son’s antics.

“Mm some of them are a bit, uh, don’t feel you have to use them.” John advised, coming over to lean on the back of the couch, after a moment he frowned in contemplation at the list Sherlock was holding and tapped at one. “Some of them aren’t too bad though.”

“I’ve ruled that one out.”

“What?”

“No one calls their child _Mary_ these days.”

“T-there’s nothing wrong with the name Mary- you’ve put _Maud_ on the list!” John argued back. Q wondered just how long these two had fought over the list for.

“Eve is much better than either of those.” Eve suggested without subtlety.

“No.” Sherlock responded simply, Mycroft rolling his eyes as the middle Holmes proceeded to clear his throat and flourish the list. John started off.

“For a boy; Baxter-“

“No.” Sherlock flat-lined. “Oliver, Benedict-“

“Who names their child Benedict?” James frowned over from the corner, Sherlock scowled back.

“It’s a traditional name-“

“Of a breakfast food.”

“Fine!” The beta snapped, causing James to grin. “Elliot,”

“A decent name.” Mycroft commented, nodding appraisingly.

“Not Elliot then.” Sherlock ruled out, scratching another name off the list. Q just sat in a mix of amusement and horror, unsure of quite whether Sherlock expected him to pick a name today or not. “Louis-“

“They know a Louis already.” Alec supplied.

“That rules out ‘Sherlock’ then.” Q spat out his sip of tea at the mere thought and Sherlock scowled anew. “Likewise for James and Hamish-“ John chocked on his own cup at the last suggestion.

“Zachary, Hugo, Morgan-“

“Morgan’s a girls name.” Q interrupted.

“We’ve moved on to the girls names now, unless you want to call your child Sampson.” At Q’s pointed cough Sherlock nodded and continued.

“Delilah-“

“Is there a bible theme I didn’t know about?” James asked.

“I just loved that story.” Mrs. Hudson sighed, stroking a rather bemused Mathew on the head.

“ _I_ think Maurice should name his pup what he wants. Or Mathew. Or _Batman_!” Mathew supplied, but could receive no praise for the fair suggestion as his sister piped up.

“Or Tut-kamoon like that pharow in Egypt!” Beth offered. “Or Cleopatra, or Alexander-“

“Alex isn’t a bad suggestion, and it’s good for both sexes.” Alec supplied, grinning. James rolled his eyes and pushed the man playfully. “Hey its no worse than Maud.”

“Moving on!” Sherlock interrupted. “For girls we have Florence, Ivy, Amelia-“

“ _Not_ Ivy.” Mycroft insisted, shuddering. Q could only meet Sherlock’s eyes briefly before he had to look away to contain his laughter. Ivy had been the name of one of Mycroft’s girlfriends who had stayed over for the summer when Q was thirteen. She had driven Mycroft nearly up the wall with her demanding, meddling and over-friendly attitude and Mummy had done nothing but encourage her until Mycroft would finally show his spine and dump the clingy girl.

“Scarlet, Freya, Lucy, Anna, Demeter-“

“Wasn’t that a name of a character from Cats?” Q interrupted. Sherlock flushed, coughed and stuffed the paper away.

“Well the rest goes on in much the same vein, John became rather obsessed-“

“What! I did not it was you-“

“What about the presents?” Sherlock interrupted forcefully.

 

-00Q00-

 

“Not bad.” James reflected, pleased, as he and Q looked upon the wealth of baby items now available to them.

“I think we’ve got everything.” Q reflected, sounding impressed, as he checked the items off the list on his phone. “Some more clothes, probably, but we can get those next week… And nappies of course.”

In amongst the toys, car seat, bassinet, bottles, formula and bedding, they’d received a few rather thoughtful gifts.

Mycroft and Eve had given them a recording book to note down all they possibly could, along with the rather fine bassinet. It seemed to be an heirloom, and James had a rather sneaking suspicion, given the crest on it, that the basket heralded from the same place as their midwife.

Sherlock and John had bandied their money together to get them the single softest-looking sleep-suit the pair of them had ever seen, courtesy of the rather fancy baby and maternity shop they’d visited a couple months back. The two betas had also provided them with a breast pump, bottles, and a large amount of nipple cream. John had looked apologetic and sensible, Sherlock gleeful and fascinated.

_“I want you to report in full detail, I have to know everything.”_

Q had coughed uncomfortably, but Sherlock hadn’t let up until Mrs. Hudson barged in with a set of awful looking padded underwear and a sympathetic ‘trust me dear’, patting Q’s shoulder. The omega had blanched at that and James swiftly took over the unwrapping.

Daniel had given them everything he could spare from Stewie’s early days, given that the pup had grown out of it.

_“It’ll work out quite nicely really, by the time you need the next batch of stuff Stewie will have grown out of that too.”_

There had been a few petulant hugs and clings of goodbye from the Mallory children, the father of which was at work, of course, but sent his regards. James liked the fiery Beth well enough; she had been making friends with everyone in typically outgoing female-alpha fashion. Eve adored her. Stuart was almost painfully ingratiating. James had only had to hold the pup for a minute and watch him waddle unsteadily around the room before both his and Alec’s instincts switched to follow and protect mode. Luckily since Stewie seemed attached at Q’s hip James could corral his protective instincts into one area.

The hold omegas had over alphas was truly frightening at times.

Mathew James could almost appreciate in a precocious way, but as the pup had entered the house, run to Q with a long cry of ‘Miiiiiiiine!’ and proceeded to growl at James and turn his nose up disrespectfully, it put something of a damper on their relationship. If it hadn’t been so damn amusing, James would have been firmly minded to teach the little mate-snatcher a lesson in ‘property’ ownership.

He could at least be mollified with Alec’s look of shock at the fact that Villiers really was M’s mate.

 _“Honestly, I thought you were joking.”_ The Russian alpha had admitted later, still a bit shell-shocked.

Altogether: a definite success. James watched Q flop down into the sofa with a rather pregnant gracelessness and dropped down beside him. The two snuggled up automatically, James helping to pull Q’s legs over his own as they cuddled close. For a few moments both enjoyed the silence. James opened his mouth to suggest tea, only to turn and find Q fast asleep on his shoulder, mouth open and drooling very slightly with faint snores.

Huffing a gentle laugh, James reached for the remote instead, turning the TV down very low and just enjoying the peace of the moment. He’d been impressed with how well Q had handled the Mallory brood. Even given that the omega couldn’t move to fend them off much, he had a natural ease around the familiar children now that made James’ chest purr in satisfaction.

He wanted to see Q with their own pup next.

 

-00Q00-

 

James was practically counting down the days. He had a small set of scratch marks on the desk of his office at Six etching through days until Q’s due date of February 4th. 23 days left, to be precise. A shivery mix of excitement, nerves and lack of patience kept the alpha’s mind occupied.

Q was drinking more, but James was sure he was eating less, did that mean something? Or was it simply getting too cramped in there for Q’s stomach plus happy-camper Rumbles.

The omega’s belly was comparatively huge to how he knew Rumbles would turn out. He’d seen pictures, but couldn’t quite imagine holding something that had a bum to neck span the size of James’ hand.

Q was even saying he might be early.

How much early? The doctor didn’t express a certain date. But Q was getting fairly unbalanced and really James didn’t want to leave him at all. But he was also getting impatient. The birth seemed to be the only thing between them and meeting their pup now, and though James was a bit nervous, and felt he had every right to be, he was looking forwards to _finally_ greeting their little one.

Nine months was a long time. Eight, he supposed, being in that Q didn’t find out until week five.

He didn’t want Q to go through the birth painfully. Mostly he wanted, needed to be there for every step of it. But what if he was at work as oppose to at home? By week 40 Q would surely be pretty much bed-ridden, the curse of the male omega, should he just take the week off to be there? But then what if Q was early and he wasn’t there? Hardly any pups were born perfectly on time. Apparently it was more akin to 50/50 whether they’d be early or late. And what if Rumbles was late? Q would be practically about to pop surely.

Breathing out slowly James sat back and scrubbed a hand through his hair. He was excited, but he didn’t like being this unprepared, out of control. There was so little he could do until the time came and before except wait. For a man used to being able to plan through every eventuality, or at least give himself a rough timeframe to follow, the wait was becoming torture.

Deciding his analysis of last month’s after action reports was going nowhere fast, James called it a day and went to work through some of his pent up stress in the gym.

Alec kept telling him to ‘breathe’ whenever they talked as if he was the one in labour. The man even texted the word sometimes. James huffed in amusement as he fixed up a punching bag. Maybe it was time he took the new recruits to a cage fight, as he had with the last ones. That would probably put him at ease for a while.

After all, the last thing either he or Q needed was them both becoming increasingly wound up and getting under each other’s feet. Q had enough balance problems as it was.

Next week. Yes. That should tide him over, and it was unlikely Q would be two weeks early. He hoped.

 

-00Q00-

 

“Ssshh, shh, come on little pup, give Mummy a break.” Q tried to calm his frolicking baby, walking slowly around the bathroom and talking in a quiet voice. He felt stiff and weak at the same time, and this was the nth night in a row where a combination of aches and ruthless baby had kept him up all night. The litany of rubs being kept up on his stomach did nothing to soothe the unborn pup, nor did massages, drinking, eating, standing, sitting…

“I know its good practice but _please let me sleep_.” Q groaned, coming to rest his head on the cool tile walls and breathe. There really was just too much going on with his body right now. There was no comfort. Sure, he could nap during the day, but he needed to sleep at least a couple of uninterrupted hours a night.

He’d left James dosing next door, unwilling to disturb his mate’s sleep more than he already had. But now his legs were starting to want to give way again, the dull ache in his pelvis morphing to a penultimate shaky feeling. Q turned the light off and hurried back to the horizontal surface of the bed.

Rumbles should be getting steadily more squashed now surely? Less able to punch and kick Q in the guts at every opportunity and reverting back to squirms. He couldn’t quite bring himself to regret any movement their pup made, but at the same time…

“I really need to sleep, and though I love you more than hacking the CIA, if you keep kicking me I am going to get my revenge in a particularly excruciatingly embarrassing form someday.” Q muttered quietly as he lay back down on his side, cradling his belly. “Now shh Blasty shh. Its okay, you’ll be out soon. It’ll be nice to finally meet you. And I do love you, even if you’re kicking me. But still please stop.”

Q tried to keep his cool for as long as he could, in more ways than one, but as the night wore on and Blasty enjoyed the last few days of being able to freely be violent, he somewhat lost the resolve.

 

-00Q00-

 

“Uuuhgg, please, please just stop!” Q had been tossing and turning again all night, leaving the bed, returning, hot and agitated and cringing occasionally. James noted the upward swing in his mate’s distress and hurried to push himself up, reaching for Q and taming his restless movements. Worried to find moisture clinging to the omegas eyes in frustrated tears, James kissed him and shushed him gently, stroking sweaty hair back from his face, pressing lips to any exposed skin…

“Shh love, just breathe. I’ve got you, I’ve got you.” Q let out a frustrated huff of a whine, but was tired enough that he was already drifting back to sleep. James kissed his softly parted lips, and again on the eyelids and forehead, cheeks, jaw, nose, gentling him back down into a slightly uncomfortable and distressed sleep.

With a whooshed breath Q calmed a bit more, and James turned his attention to the source of his mate’s sleepless night. Searching hands mapped out the strong, though not worrying, movements of their pup in Q’s belly. Kicking and twisting in a rather discomforting dance. Pounding the walls of its nice cushy home in a way that made the alpha wince for his poor lover.

Leaning down close James wrapped his arms around Q’s belly in a satisfyingly full way, cocooning and rubbing, stroking, trying to massage and soothe away the achy pain caused by Rumbles’ bursts of activity. The movements caused a small moment of marvel at the reoccurring realisation that their pup was alive and living in there, just waiting…

The movements beneath his hands continued despite James’ attempts until Q was squirming again and on the edge of waking, breaths returning into huffs of pants and distressed sounding. The alpha turned to the heavy belly before him again and rested his head there, shushing as he had earlier in the week, and most nights since.

“Hush now little one, come on, Mummy’s got to rest, you can come out soon, just be nice little pup. You need rest too.” Slowly, so slowly, the frenetic and powerful kicks died down to normal shifting under the squidgy protection. “Good pup, that’s right little one.”

Whether down to his ministrations or the energy attack being over, James didn’t know, but at last mate and pup seemed to be sleeping peacefully. The frown lines on Q’s face had smoothed away, breathing evening out into a calm rhythm.

Grateful, and a little chuffed, James pulled the covers back up over Q. They tented over the swell of belly and he gathered his limp omega close, pooling them both into a tangle of limbs and stroking Q’s hair and stomach until he fell asleep as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> M brood surprise!!! Seriously, I didn't know they were showing up either O.o' Mycroft must have been teaching them ninja tactics.
> 
> So, hey! I think I should answer a fairly important question that has been banging about:  
> To all those who worry this story will stop dead after little Blastles is born FEAR NOT! I don't plan to keep quite the same week/week schedule or go into the same depth that I have for this main part of the story (yes, I know we all want to see the detail, so do I! But I just can't keep it up ':D) more likely there will be snippets or chapters might cover a month-ish? There will probably be time skips too. Not sure quite how it will work out yet. I've penned some notes down, but I'll have to see when actually writing it.  
> Again, I'm not sure how long the snippets will go on for (Blasty's age wise) but I definitely don't want to cut off immediately after the birth.  
> So there will be 00Q+baby goodness! Fear not!  
> Speaking of, if there are any 00Q+baby scenes/important stuff/funny stuff/serious stuff you'd like to see post-birth then please absolutely let me know! I'm very happy to put in what I can and it might encourage me to write more/longer Blasty extras. So go right ahead! (I loves me some ideas x3 *munches*)
> 
> Hope that puts some fears at rest for you guys, and thank you for all your gorgeous comments and kudosing last chapter! (to all who suggested baby names a while back, I tried to use some of each person's suggestions in this chapter, hope you could pick them out!)  
> See you all next time and thanks for reading :3  
> P.S... not long to gooo! *dances*


	46. H0: Technically Viable; H1: Battle Stations for Body.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aw yeah, on a roll, on a roll, call me butter *dances*  
> You guys are great! Look how motivating you all are, seriously I can't thank you enough for all the encouragement x'D  
> *showers with rainbows*
> 
> Enjoy yourselves a chapter!

The last check up Q had had revealed that the omega’s body was preparing itself for labour, so James had made sure he was present for this one. Just in case. And what if Q started giving birth somewhere without him? No, if there were any more developments, James would be there to know about it.

“Well, we’re progressing, there’s no doubt about it. Although, these signs can still either take a slow or sudden approach.”

Q had just sat down after being subjected to a rather thorough and intimate exam. James had tried not to grumble a low growl too much as the doctor took his mate behind the curtain and examined his lower regions.

“How’s your walking been over the last few days?” Both of them grimaced a bit.

“Difficult.” Q responded, and James inhaled in agreement.

“Yes, you’re feeling quite loose now, as is the baby’s passage. All good signs. But I’m afraid there’s no way to measure how fast it will go. Just know for now that your body is preparing and you should try to take it easy with some gentle exercise. Try not to go out alone though. Should your hips dislocate, it will send you to the ground if you’re not careful or with company. If for any reason you’re feeling unsure, remaining sitting is best.” Darcy turned to James.

“You might be able to help with this quite a lot. Many alphas report they can scent when their mates are nearing dislocation. Evolution has bred it out a bit with modern medicine, but certainly that used to save a lot of lives.”

James straightened a bit, the responsibility settling deep within him. Surely he would have that attuned sense of smell, being a double oh he was prized for such things. And he’d always been particularly clued into Q, from the very beginning. The doctor turned back to Q and indicated his chest.

“Your chest is looking a little swollen too, nipples stiffened. If you start becoming short of breath over the next few days that’s perfectly normal, even good. It means the glands that produce your milk are expanding how they can. So, within reason, the more short of breath you are the better for your baby. And all the more reason to take it easy.” With that and a smile the couple were dismissed for the week, both with a lot to think about. Q rubbed his chest lightly, a bit bashfully.

“I didn’t ask, does it hurt?” Q shook his head a bit.

“Just feels a bit tight, uncomfortable.” James frowned. He disliked any discomfort for Q on principle. But this was at least an important sort of discomfort.

“Would a massage help?” Q let out a cough and flushed a little, dropping his hands.

“I worry that I’d start, err, leaking… I’ve heard that can happen.” James raised his eyebrows, smirking, and shifted a little closer. To him that sounded both fascinating and delightful. Q noticed the alpha sidling closer and batted at him like an affronted kitten.

“James no! No. I refuse.”

“Ohh.” The agent allowed out in a teasing pout, but relented for now. After all, he didn’t want Q feeling uncomfortable about anything that was his body preparing to look after their pup when it was born. A part of him suspected he could win Q over.

After all, it seemed like a constant imperative that the both of them knew everything about each other.

 

-00Q00-

 

Just being around the house had started to drive Q up the walls. Yes, he appreciated the necessity of remaining safe and comfortable, but other than fatigue Q felt perfectly healthy. Well, save the aches. And the shaking from the waist down. But at least Blasty had calmed down somewhat. The pup became active at periods during the day and night, and for half an hour after Q ate, but no longer subjected it’s incubator to an assault from midnight onwards.

For this Q was eternally grateful. However, just sitting around the house was leading to his constant thinking or fretting about all things baby. From anticipating the sex and gender of their pup to worrying over whether they had enough baby socks. And with James out for the day training his new double oh hopefuls to hold their breath, fight underwater and avoid sharks, Q was lonely. And bored. 

No, he needed a break. And Mycroft was, of course, the perfect enabler.

_“I shan’t take you anywhere exertive. We’re going for afternoon tea. You shall be sitting down and accepting healthy options.”_

“And you’ll be sampling the finest?”

_“Naturally, I wouldn’t dream of it.”_ Q caught the slight pause in between the ‘honest’ and ‘honourable’ answer, grinning to himself over the phone.

“Charming. Pick me up?”

_“Of course.”_ James had expressed pretty plainly after the doctor’s appointment that he didn’t want Q going out alone. It was a bit closeting, but the quartermaster could easily understand the reason behind the demand. He had, after all, hardly been comfortable himself for the last few days.

But going out with company was fine, and Mycroft was almost on a par with James when the older alpha put protectiveness over obnoxious.

Wrapped up warmly and eager to get out, Q took a small amount of pleasure in forcing Mycroft to come all the way up the stairs to collect him ‘for safety’ from the house. It was possibly a bit petulant, but given that Mycroft not only seemed pleased but approving Q thought he may have missed the point. Regardless, the omega was determined to enjoy himself.

“Ah,” Mycroft turned to him when safely situated in the car and patted Q’s rounded belly proudly. “Nearly there aren’t we?” Rolling his eyes a little, but not cruelly, Q looked with pointed amusement at his brother.

“We? Something you need to tell me Mycroft?” Waving off his younger brother Mycroft settled back into his seat.

“Put your seat belt on, brother.”

_Still has to be the one in charge_. Q mused ruefully, but unable to feel patronised when his sibling was so clearly willing to take time out of his day to partake in something as mundane as cake. But then, that had always been their particular bonding method hadn’t it?

Situated at one of Mycroft’s favourite patisseries Q prodded chocolate cake onto Mycroft’s plate as the alpha supplied him with a platter of decadent and healthy sandwiches. Even given his sweet tooth, the tiny bread and filling triangles were admittedly delicious.

“Now, tell me, how are you doing Aster?” With a sip of tea Mycroft fixed his little brother with a keen look. Q took a slow drink, set the cup down after a moment of contemplation.

“Surprisingly fine.” He replied, Mycroft’s eyebrows rising.

“Oh Really?”

“I’m as surprised as you are.” Mycroft looked even more dubious.

“Well, I expect it’s hard to know for sure these days, all those hormones running around…” Q took a moment to look consternated, before he caught Mycroft’s slight smirk from behind the mug of his tea.

“You’re teasing me.” Q voiced, voice tinted in wonder. The alpha coughed a bit, clearing his throat.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” But he was still smiling, and appeared almost, proud that Q’s ability to read his family members had finally progressed.

Q, for himself, could only look on in slight wonder.

Would things have been vastly different, if Q could have understood them back then?

“Don’t keep living in the past, Aster.” Startled out of his reverie, Q blinked at his hawk-eyed brother. “It wouldn’t do to dwell on the past and forget to live, now would it?” Mycroft pointed out shrewdly, and took a bite of cake at if to prove his point. Q however, hadn’t overlooked part of that statement.

“Did you just… half quote _Harry Potter_ at me?” Mycroft scowled a bit, evidently decidedly unimpressed with having been sussed out.

“Under no circumstances, brother dear.” He replied, haughtily, but couldn’t keep from smiling after a moment at Q’s continued laughing.

Tea took them into rush hour by the time they decided to leave. Q pre-emptively went to the toilet before they were potentially caught in traffic on the way home, and returned out to find Mycroft scowling at his phone.

“Something wrong?” Mycroft hummed in confirmation.

“My car appears to have… _broken down_.” Given the stiffly proper syntax and consternated tone, Mycroft was not best pleased.

“…Oh dear.” Q responded, probably unhelpfully. In his mind he was already thinking what the most likely problem was, fingers itching for the familiar feeling of fixing an engine like an addict for their next hit.

“Yes. Most disappointing.” Q sensed that the problem was probably more to do with incompetence than genuine breakdown, and wondered why Mycroft ever hired new staff instead of simply attempting to ‘breed’ people into the role. Even something as simple as chauffer was driven to complexity by his brother.

“Well, can they fix it? Do you want me to talk to them?” Mycroft cast a glance over at Q, and even that gave his esteem a rather pleasing boost. However, his craving didn’t seem about to be fulfilled.

“Best not. Your mate would likely flay me alive if I let you near anything sharp and greasy. And then I’d have to call national security on him-“

“James is in national security.” Mycroft chuckled.

“Oh my dear Star, there is national security and then there is _national security_. Rest assured, its best neither get involved.” Q couldn’t think of a good answer for that, and for a moment was both thankful and terrified that Mycroft was his brother.

“No it shan’t be fixed anytime soon. How vexing.” Q shrugged, pulling on his coat regardless of their new situation.

“We could always take the underground.” Predictably, Mycroft stiffened.

“The underground?” He repeated, voice tense.

“Yes, you know, the tube, etc.”

“I do understand the concept.” Q grinned at Mycroft’s disgruntled expression and patted his shoulder.

“Come on, you know no one in _any_ security of England will take you seriously if you’ve never been on the tube?”

“I’ve been-“

“Years ago, I’m sure. Come on. There’s a station right there.” Q pointed out the window, and the proximity seemed to dampen Mycroft’s resistance.

“Well, I suppose it couldn’t hurt. You have one of those Clam cards I suppose, do you?”

“…It’s an Oyster card, Mycroft.”

“Ah.”

 

-00Q00-

 

Realisation is a funny thing, given that nine times out of ten it occurs inexcusably late.

Q probably shouldn’t have suggested the tube. It was packed, crowded, and whoever had come up with the idea of ‘priority seating’ evidently hadn’t paused to consider how one exactly got to the seating area when there was barely enough room to stand.

Mycroft was doing a reasonably good job of imposing a larger space around his pregnant brother by sheer imperious presence and sharp, flinty glares. Sinister, all-knowing, smiles…

Shrinking into himself Q backed into a corner. He could stand for a bit, he really could. It was just incredibly crowded and no matter what he’d told James upon their early friendship he’d tried to avoid rush hour on the tube like a plague since he was seventeen. The crowds and heat had never been ideal for such a reclusive child. He evidently had not improved much during pregnancy.

It was hot too. Q was clad in winter clothing and layers upon layers but didn’t quite have the space to take any off. Despite Mycroft’s best attempts to prevent him from getting squashed.

“Maybe we should get off next stop.” Q hedged, panting a bit and feeling uncomfortably hot and heady. He needed more air. Mycroft took one sharp look at him and brought out his phone –one Q knew to give contact even on the underground, given that he had designed it and offered them as Christmas presents to his brothers.

“I’ll get my driver to bring a car over-“ no soon had Mycroft said the words then the train shuddered to a stop, the compartment and passengers lurched side-to-side with the movement, threatening to topple over into each other like dominoes.

_“We apologise for the delay, there has been an incident at the next station and we are holding position. Please remain calm-“_

Someone, of course, started panicking.

“Oh god, oh god. It’s terrorists isn’t it!?” People hurried to shush her and laugh it off or shout her down but others were picking up the cry and people were panicking and the air was thick with the scent of rising excitement and anxiety and the train had gone dark and the air was too hot and thick-

“M-Mycroft, Mycroft,” Q slurred, shocked at how numb his tongue was and how weak his voice had gone in case he threw up. Black spots began to dance in his eyes as his heart raced and he reached for Mycroft’s shoulder, fumbling. The alpha turned and, looking immediately shocked by what he could see, moved to grasp his arms.

“Steady, Aster, look at me-“

“I, I don-don’feel s’good.” Q took a breath that felt like cotton wool and knew with a swell of panicky certainty before he spoke that he was going to faint.

“Aster, breathe-“ Mycroft’s iron-grip on his arms as he swayed kept him up for a bare moment.

“I th-think ’m gointuuhh-“ The world dropped from under him into blackness with someone’s startled shout of his name.

 

-00Q00-

 

A wash of cool air and jolt of movement brought Q gasping back into reality.

“Mmmn wha-“

“Shh, don’t talk, Star. Just breathe.” Mycroft soothed, hand going to Q’s head hot and a bit sweaty. Q blinked, rolled his head and blearily focussed. He felt sick and clammy, shaking. Frighteningly weak. There was a space around them before a squash of nervous and excited onlookers. Q realised by the smell and feel that he was flat on his back on the floor and felt a wash of panic shudder down his spine along with the vulnerability. A small whimper escaped him before being bitten back and swallowed around thickly. He felt sick, and feverishly weak-limbed.

“Nothing to worry about, Quartermaster.” Murmured a strangely happy, steady voice next to him, steadier than Mycroft’s and…familiar? Q frowned over, vision still swimming and spotting out, threatening to send him into fainting again. The woman he saw leaning over him was anything but what he expected.

“D’ble oh nine?” The chocolate-haired, tanned woman offered him a relaxed, gently amused smile.

“Hi.” She replied, smiling still, evidently entertained by his surprise as much as she was deftly checking his pulse and texting in the other hand. “We’re under control, just remain calm.” The familiar jovial lilt to her otherwise serious words sunk into his consciousness.

He felt more confused than anything, and Mycroft was frowning between the two.

“You know each other?” He exclaimed, carefully keeping his voice down so that the other passengers couldn’t overhear.

“Oh yes, lots.” Double oh nine had been one of the agents Q worked more closely with throughout the years of his MI6 career, even when he was R. She had a reputation for technological aptitude and a misleadingly lazy approach to interacting and to life itself. Full of laid back personality and disarmingly, well, disarming.

She had also run off with alpha double oh’s 3 and 4 to live polyamourously on an island, last Q knew, and was also a double oh agent by only the thinnest of stretched rules. Being in that she was an omega, and solely sent on diplomat protection and intelligence missions where she could blend in… usually in England itself, those with contacts to foreign countries and…oh how obvious it was that she may have come into contact with Mycroft now.

The alpha, himself, looked stunned. Q tried to rearrange his head around the concept but simply felt too sick and disorientated to try. Groaning, he rolled his head away and brought a hand to his stomach. He’d fainted, surely fallen? Had he landed okay? Had the fall hurt Blasty?

“You didn’t fall, just toppled into those nearby.” The train jolted gently into movement once again. “Trevelyan’s waiting at the station and then we’re all off to the hospital.” The casual way of speaking, as if talking about the weather, helped to soothe Q’s nerves and panic somewhat.

Being an omega himself, he used entirely the same sort of tone when dealing with stressful situations that he was actually in control of. They’d spoken on missions as such. It was a behaviour he could not only relate to, but also trust in.

Someone speaking the same language.

“James?” He asked, allowing himself the moment of weakness because yes, he was scared and felt terrifyingly gingerly and shaken, clinging to consciousness and he wanted his mate. He didn’t care, he just wanted his mate. Alec was a good name to hear too though. Alec would tell James. “I need-“

“Trevelyan’s alerting James. He was just close by. Not to worry.” The hand holding his shaking one was stroking gently as Mycroft’s rested on his stomach in protection. Q closed his eyes, swallowed, and felt tears heat his eyes as he shook.

The tears were just about held back, but Q’s shaky feeling and achy body would not calm down completely. 009 and Mycroft combined had, however, at least stopped him from fainting out of pure fright at his situation and shock again. And kept him from bursting into complete tears. A few blinked out anyway as Q internally begged for James’ presence and worried over his pup and probably imminent need to stand when the mere thought of it scared him feeble. He didn’t really pause to wonder how Double oh Nine knew Alec’s schedule.

Thankfully the next station was not far away.

Something over the tannoy announced that there was a medical emergency in one of the carriages, and to please be considerate in letting other passengers off first. Dutifully, and with a few expected background tuts, the crowd in Q’s compartment hung back or began slowly filing out the doors at either end. Q would rather they left than watch him, personally, but Mycroft and 009 had other ideas.

“Gently does it, come on.” Mycroft coaxed, anchoring a hand between Q’s shoulder blades.

“Hmm, you’re much heavier now that there’s two of you.” 009 added cheerfully.

Together they lifted Q sitting, who clung onto Mycroft’s shoulders instantly and blinked away the dizziness and tears. It was fine, he’d only fainted. Hardly a missing limb. And yet, when two pairs of hands grasped him and lifted him upright his whole body shook.

Biting back a whine Q refused to let go of his clutch on Mycroft’s shoulders. His legs were trembling and his hips felt like they were about to give up and collapse beneath him. His brother’s steady hands found fragile hips as if sensing the problem and felt like they were helping hold him together. 009 gently prised his grip free from Mycroft guided him into some unsteady steps off the train.

“Safe.” The other omega’s light commentary helped soothe him somewhat, though he still felt distressed, vulnerable.

“Oh good, there you are.” Alec’s familiar tone cut through some of Q’s barely controlled stupor and he looked up to see the man grinning, and a bit worried, but mostly, not only grinning at him. “Good work, krasotka.” 009 smiled sweetly and calmly behind Q.

“Not at all.” She replied. The look they shared, well, both Q and Mycroft recognised it, they looked at their own partners the exact same way.

“ _Anthea_ , you know Trevelyan?” Mycroft demanded, a bit affronted by the fact he had been taken by surprise.

“Oh, very well.” She answered, helping Q into Alec’s hands. The blonde alpha had turned his attention onto the quartermaster whilst Mycroft silently floundered. For is part, Q was feeling just a bit too tearful and awful to take in such revelations completely. His hands shook as he tried to get out his phone whilst Alec gently took charge of steering him for the exit, supporting him.

He wanted his James, and nest, and tea, and in that order. Possibly the only thing holding him together other than his assorted trio of guards was the fact that Blasty was giving a little stretch in his stomach, squirming slightly. Woken up by the excitement probably. One hand rested there for the connection whilst he dialled for James.

“James is on his way back from Cornwall.” Alec informed, and Q bit down the whine wanting to escape. Of course, he’d forgotten, it was ‘underwater survival training’ day. Of course his mate couldn’t be here to pick him up. This sort of thing seemed to happen a lot when James was away, come to think of it. This settled it; the man could never go away again. Ever. How long would it take James to get here?

Mycroft was still affronted and shocked behind him, asking probing questions that 009 responded to with a casual flair.

“Here we go.” Alec announced as they arrived up some awful stairs at a taxi rank. Q curled into the corner of one seat when the door was opened for him, and clutched his phone whilst debating calling James. Q just wanted to ask him to come home now, but surely that would only worry James unduly, especially as he was on his way already. It wouldn’t do any good, probably. The phone would probably be confiscated in order to ‘calm him down’ too.

“I just don’t understand why you never told me.” Mycroft almost pouted in the background. Q tried to focus on the conversation instead of his wildly swinging emotions.

“You didn’t ask.” Anthea smirked over cheekily, calmly, amused. Mycroft ruffled a bit.

“The island didn’t work out so well then?” Q questioned. His voice was almost painfully quiet, but neither double oh nor the tuned-in Mycroft had any problems picking it out. Beside him, Mycroft slid an arm around Q. 009 laughed.

“Oh, that.” She shook her head a bit, raising her eyebrows and looking at Alec briefly before turning back to the phone. “They mistakenly only thought they would work with me. And the climate was tepid in more than one area.” Both Holmes’ raised their eyebrows whilst Alec grinned ferociously.

“All the better for me.” He announced, wrapping an arm around Anthea’s slim waist and pressing a kiss to her hair. The female omega just smiled, combed fingers through her hair to straighten it, and leaned a bit on Alec whilst continuing to type. Alec blew at her fringe playfully and received much the same reaction.

Q didn’t know if he was amazed or horrified by how sweet they seemed together.

“How long?” Q just beat Mycroft to the question, by the look of things.

“About four years, on and off. Solidly for a couple of months now.” Alec replied. Q blinked and frowned.

“Does James know?” Alec chuckled.

“Not yet.” Q just shook his head, too frazzled to really compute that for the past two months Alec had been in a committed looking relationship without letting a hair of it be known.

“Honestly, _agents_.” Mycroft scoffed disparagingly. Anthea just smiled again lazily whilst Alec toyed with her hair. Mycroft turned to his brother rather than focus on the source of his ire any longer, carefully taking his pulse again. Q let it all happen around him, sinking into fatigue and longing for James. On the surface he could recognise that 009’s laidback personality and casual way of accepting situations meshed well with Alec’s vibrant alertness and constant desire for attention and contact…

If the two of them became any more serious, he and James would start to have a very formidable pack indeed.

Q rubbed his belly, thinking down to Blasty _‘you’re going to be raised amidst wolves. But they’re loving ones… As long as you can make it through nine months in disaster-prone me, you’ll love them. And I’ll try for no more adventures, promise.'_

Alec reached over the gap between them and startled Q a bit by bringing hands up to rub a massage at his neck and the base of his skull. Q felt himself going under with it, eyes drifting crossed and closed, Alec’s concerned eyes, Anthea’s subtly sharp gaze appraising him, and Mycroft’s arm encouraging him to curl against the warm weight of his body.

 

-00Q00-

 

James couldn’t get home fast enough. Impatient with his dawdling, exhausted recruits and frustrated with the weekday traffic. A good amount of rules were broken with no remorse. Alec’s call had been brief but enough to strike fear deep inside him.

_‘Q’s fainted on the underground. He’s alright, I’m on route and we’ll get him checked over. Mycroft and Monroe are with him.’_

Just what the hell 009, Anthea Monroe, was doing there James had no idea. Last he’d heard she was on her island with 003 and 4. But the scattered thought was hardly at the forefront of his mind.

What with the news from their doctor’s appointment earlier that week, and his general fretting over mate and pup, James was a ball of nerves by the time he was halfway down the motorway, recruits in the minibus behind him. Sometimes, he wondered about what his life had become, not right now, but it was still a relief to know that he could put a minibus through its paces when the need called. The double-oh hopefuls looked a mixture of terrified and nauseous as the minibus ungainly swerved through slower traffic.

James had just managed a particularly fine shift between a honking truck and a lorry, one man screaming in horror in the back seat, when his phone lit up with a call from Q.

Entire focus pinning on the phone with relief the alpha patched the call through the Bluetooth in his ear.

“Q.” He spoke, voice betraying slight strained emotions despite his training. The young men and women in the back of the vehicle were far too busy trying to clean up each other’s sweat and sick to notice. Needless to say none of them were going to be getting his approval at this rate.

_“James, James…”_ The alpha could hear the strain in Q’s own quiet voice and his heart pulled uncomfortably, he sounded like he was trying not to break down. _“Are you coming home?”_

James’ chest squeezed. Even after all this time with him and Q, it was moments like these that took him right back to the start, when they clung to each other over continents.

“I’m coming home Q, I’m nearly there.” Q’s sigh of relief was palpable, releasing the tension slightly in James, though his heart and mind remained focused on the telephone, ignoring the petrified recruits in the back.

_“I, I’m fine, we’re both fine. Just a s-stupid mistake to- doesn’t matter, you’re coming home. I miss you.”_

Q must be truly shaken, sounded like he was fighting tears.

_“Sorry, stressful.”_ Q added as if he could hear James’ thoughts. “I’m home now, sitting in our bloody bathroom because they want me to rest rather than call you and-“

Q continued to rant in an increasingly distressed way and James had no desire greater in that moment than to remove all of those horrible hormones from clouding Q’s body into these anxious moods.

“Shh,” James coaxed gently, even that enough to encourage Q to breathe. “Half an hour, I’m nearly there. I’m not leaving again.” And again Q must be following his selfish and indulgent feelings because instead of protest the omega simply responded with _“Good.”_

_“I’m thinking Blasty needs to come out now, before I loose my mind.”_ Q spluttered the last bit with a laugh that eased James’ remaining fear. Q was fine, shaken, but fine. Joking was always the indicator. Loss of humour in Q was always the first red sign.

“Soon, Q. Two, three weeks, at most.” Q breathed in and out slowly with a little laughter, calming.

_“I love you.”_

“Back soon.”

_“Bye.”_ The omega didn’t hang up though, and noticing James left the call on. Q said nothing, but the alpha could hear him breathing. He assumed that was why Q had stayed on the line too.

James pushed his foot down on the accelerator, enjoying the renewed screaming from the back.

Once safely in London James let the recruits stagger off and ditched the minibus before heading home. The house was lit up and welcoming, Mycroft, Alec and Monroe in the kitchen. Alec pointed him upstairs without pre-amble, easily knowing James’ priorities.

He spared them a brief nod before heading up to where Q was. A pile of bedding with Q’s head poking out miserably greeted him.

“Hello.”

“Hello.” James walked over and got down on his knees to slip into the nest beside his mate, tugging the covers back around them as Q drew arms around him and curled close. The omega’s heavy belly protruded welcomingly between them. The alpha couldn’t help ducking and snuffling along Q’s neck, taking a few deep inhales. The doctor’s suggestion from earlier in the week that he might be able to scent the labour before Q sat in his mind. But he could detect nothing different about Q’s unique and pregnant scent. Even the distress was thankfully minimal now, a distinct wash of relief coating the younger man in the alpha’s presence. Finishing his aroma examination, James nuzzled into Q’s soft hair instead, resting there and blinking slowly.

Neither said a word for a long time, and when James stroked Q’s relaxed fingers and opened his mouth to check if the omega was feeling better, the man had already fallen asleep. Face pressed into the nape of his alpha’s neck to breathe in the scent. Smiling to himself the agent wondered that Q had waited to fall asleep until he was back, craving his presence. It gave him a sense of almost blindingly pleasing importance. He kissed the hand in his own, the ridge of one dark eyebrow, and settled down to relax.

 

-00Q00-

 

The next day James cornered Alec in MI6 about Anthea Monroe.

“What d-you want me to say? We’ve never been serious before. But we are now. Thought I’d mention it after little Blastles’ big day. Wouldn’t want to steal the limelight from the little one.” Alec grinned, and James begrudgingly let his slighted feelings drop.

“As if you could.” He teased back, grinning, but still a little miffed that he’d missed such a monumental development in Alec’s life. The other alpha slapped his arm without hard feelings.

“Can’t catch them all, besides, we worked for damn _years_ to keep our flings a secret.”

“Years?!” James repeated, stunned. Alec just roared with laughter and walked off down the corridor, waving. He could only shake his head in wonder. Of course the two of them had always worked well together, but they’d not worked together often. 009 rarely went on missions as dangerous at the two of them, and if there played only a minor role. The sneaky pair, damn.

Still, James felt he should have seen it coming, or at least noticed.

“Bloody blind these days. For years, with those two.” He jokingly criticised of himself later, at home with Q cooking in the kitchen area. The omega laughed softly.

“In that case we both are. I didn’t even check who my brother’s whiz of an assistant was.” Q offered, stirring some sauce in the frying pan.

“Maybe children make you blinkered.” James theorised, stretching. Finding he wasn’t as upset about his world narrowing as he would have thought he’d be.

“Maybe right now. But to give ourselves credit where it’s due, we’ve had a rough pregnancy and it’s nearly over. I think we’re entitled a bit of short-sightedness.” Looking over, Q shrugged, smiling. James smiled back with a quizzical frown.

“Where did this come from?” Q shrugged again, seemingly a bit bemused himself, and held out a bowl for James to take. The alpha stood and started moving things to the table, whacking the TV onto something mindless behind them for them to laugh at.

“I don’t know, I’ve just been feeling really calm today. I expect it wont last.” James chuckled and on a whim slotted his arms under Q’s, lifting to take some of the omega’s weight off his pelvis.

Q laughed as they waddled together towards the table and sat down, clinging onto James’ hands as he went.

Especially given the week’s dramas, James was hoping the calm spell could stay until their baby was born.

For one thing, he felt much better about the new and exciting challenge they were about to take on during these moments rather than their anxious ones.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know, I'm being mean to Q again 'xD But! This is the last time, pretty much, I think, I promise? ;D  
> Anyway we finally have Anthea for those who wanted! I think that's everyone now right?  
> Cheers for all the great baby + 00Q ideas, I have compiled them in a file, but feel free to send in more if they're floating around.
> 
> Hope you're all having good weeks and we're getting pretty damn close now!
> 
> Thank you all for the wonderful amazing and S.P.A.R.K.L.Y (Super Perfectly Awesome Reviewers Kindly Leaving Yarns) comments. Its entirely fair to say this story would never have reached this point without the support you guys have given, so F***ING THANK YOU!
> 
> P.S. Sorry for today's note-scatteredness, I got to speak to probably my best friend tonight after about a year, so I'm super happy x3
> 
> Love you, and see you next chapter!


	47. H0: All Holmes' entirely prepared; H1: All Bonds ready and waiting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just one day late! I think (hope) you guys will forgive me when you read though ;)  
> All un-replied to comments shall be replied to post-haste! I thought I'd just get this up first.
> 
> That's all I think, enjoy! :3
> 
> (Oh, except) **WARNING:** Bodily suffering? Shall we warn for that? I mean, you guys are prepared I'm sure, but just to be on the safe side!

_‘Things to do when bored whilst pregnant.’_

Q’s innocently casual typing of the phrase into Google earlier that morning had left him, well, half occupied and half perplexed.

There were some lists, some suggestions, and some other things that were far too time consuming.

_‘Photograph your bump’_ and _‘decorate your bump’_ seemed popular choices. Q attempted with the photography for a while, but rarely did a picture come out looking attractive. He wasn’t about to decorate his belly, not after James’ attempt with the ‘baby bingo’ anyway.

_‘Learn a new recipe’_ sounded easy, but the cookies burnt, and _‘learn how to knit’_ just sounded so mundane compared to designing explosives.

He gave _‘learn a new language’_ a try, deciding to brush up on Russian in case Alec chose to teach their pup swear words. That thought alone led him to learning the swear words of most spoken languages on the off chance that James and his fellow double oh got creative. You could never be too careful, after all. Unfortunately, or luckily, thanks to growing up with Sherlock Q already knew most of them.

A shocking number of suggestions revolved around shopping, something impossible for him with his hips. Scrolling down the endless suggestions, Q paused on one.

“…Write a letter to your child…” Intrigued, because he knew no matter how many Holmes genes had been passed down Blasty wouldn’t be able to read fresh out of the womb, Q read on. The suggestion was to pick an age, say 16, 18, 21, something memorable or important, and to arrange to give or deliver the letter to your pup at that point.

The idea stuck with him for some reason. Maybe because he’d never understood any of the decisions of his own parents, or because in the world they lived in, the careers he and James worked in, there was no guarantee of them being there at the time if work or worse called them away… Maybe because, thinking about it, there were some things, promises he’d made, that Q would like his pup to know.

Considering, Q picked up pen and paper and, for the first time in a long time, began to properly write. Of course, he’d have to back it up with an electronic copy, e-mail it, possibly, maybe type it out in best. But this seemed the best way to start.

For a moment he sat at his desk, tapping the pen in thought. The perfectionist in him wanted to do several well-written attempts, but the part of him that had transformed into something calmer and faintly sappy during this pregnancy and throughout knowing James thought that the original would probably be more heartfelt… Probably be the best…

Taking a small breath Q set the pen tip to paper, and began as haphazardly as expected.

_~Dear Blasty, sorry, not Blasty any more, probably. We’ve not got a name for you yet, being in that we’re keeping you a surprise. Sex, gender, the whole lot. Yes, I know, we’re possibly very foolish, and if all your baby pictures involve you in only yellow or white clothes then you now know why. Sorry for that. Well, a little sorry. Your father and I both love surprises. He calls you Rumbles, by the way…~_

 

-00Q00-

 

Another day, another disappointment. The new recruits were just painfully underperforming. James hadn’t seen such incompetence since he’d seen Q battling with buttons when drunk. Frankly it was a relief to get home and be spared their inadequacy.

The things he’d seen them attempt with a knife today… Shuddering at the thought the alpha climbed the steps to their house.

A nice, calm evening with Q sympathising over the woes of the recruiting department today was exactly what he needed. Some nice relaxed time stroking the omega’s belly and trying to coax out that little pup.

Given that their doctor had predicted an early birth twice as of yesterday, James was only too aware that it wouldn’t be long now. Which was excellent, in his opinion.

What he wasn’t expecting, was to open the front door to hear Q groaning in a decidedly unhappy way from the front room.

“Q?” James called sharply, storming in, hand drifting to his holster automatically. He could smell discomfort, and Villiers, oddly enough, but no fear or threat. The scene that greeted him, one of Q bent over and receiving a back rub from the other omega, was one that took a moment to compute.

“James, its-“

“It’s coming?!” Springing over James rounded the couch as Villiers tutted and rolled his eyes.

“No, just Braxton Hicks. They’ve been staying constant and now receding for a while.”

“How the hell do you know?” James accused, not even pretending to be polite, and barged his way to his knees in front of Q. His mate looked up with an annoyed but not frightened expression.

“It’s not too bad.” James’ scowl deepened.

“It looks bad enough.” Every nerve in him was thrumming, adrenaline wrenching up to unbelievable levels as his hands clamped gently on Q’s knees. “Should we, do you want to…” He couldn’t even form words. Was this it? This was it, right?

Again, Villiers scoffed beside them.

“Even if this were his actual labour, you don’t need to rush off to the hospital at once. Wait until you know the duration, frequency or strength is increasing, then go in. Until then its best to rest-“

“With due respect, fuck tha-“

“No, James, he’s right.” Q looked a bit unnerved, but not frightened. He even managed a tight smile. “Just, lets see how it progresses, alright?”

James looked from his stoically suffering and hard-breathing mate to the other omega patiently massaging his back. A snap decision was made.

“No.”

James stood and scooped Q up with a little yelp of surprise.

“James-“

“No, Q. We’re going.” For all he knew, Q was being overly calm because he was more nervous about going in to the hospital and facing the threat of labour.

“…Okay.” The easy fold led James to believe he was thinking along the right tracks. Daniel, to his credit, chuckled and seemed to invite himself along rather than be annoyed.

“I’ll bet you a month’s salary it’s the Hicks.” He challenged as they went out. James focused on the challenge of holding onto a rather hefty Q, the omega’s hands occasionally clenching a little in his shirt along with puffs of breath against his neck.

The alpha hurried out the way he’d came, taking care on the steps, and to his Aston Martin. Helping Q to slip into the seat carefully and belting the omega in, James ran a hand down his mate’s face.

“Does it hurt?” Q didn’t wince so much as frown heavily for a bit with a renewed whatever-it-was.

“Not so much, but…its weird.”

“That’ll be the Hicks.” Daniel piped up merrily from the back. “When we get sent back I’ve got some techniques to keep you comfortable.” James growled and shut the both of them in, unable to kick out the other omega, even if he was annoying. The man might prove useful yet. Possibly.

Sliding into the driver’s seat the agent kicked the car into gear and floored it to the hospital as much as possible through the traffic.

He couldn’t smell anything different about Q. He had hoped he’d be able to, sure of it, but he wouldn’t risk Q’s health on pride, nor their pup.

“How are the hips?” Q breathed for a moment.

“Okay, no worse.” James grunted in response and sped up. All of his considerable focus boiled down to the hospital, getting to the hospital, getting there now.

Then he’d, they’d, face whatever was coming next. _Christ what if it’s the real thing?_ Excitement clenched James’ heart and nearly caused him to grin wildly, but he held it back, focused. He had, after all, planned this journey down to the very traffic lights. He’d make mincemeat out of the timing.

 

-00Q00-

 

Half an hour later, and after several careful checks, James Bond was half leading half carrying Q back to the car in disappointment.

Q looked rather relieved, but James wanted it to be their pup.

“It’s alright, now we know, for next time, or whenever the real thing is.” Q placated, allowing James to fuss him into the car and layer him with an extra jacket. Maybe he was too cold. Maybe being warm would help things along a bit.

On one hand, it seemed unfair to hope Q would soon go into labour, given that it would hurt. But on the other, they were ready for this baby. Everything they needed they had, except for the pup.

_Come on Rumbles._ James thought, carefully rubbing down Q’s stomach. The false contractions had eased with the change of position as they walked into the hospital, leaving Q more relaxed.

The doctor they’d seen had smiled, amused but sympathetic. Praised James for bringing Q in and Daniel for keeping the omega calm at home. Q was generally just showered with affection, brought some soothing tea and overall pampered.

Villiers hadn’t stopped smirking, though he had at least refrained from saying ‘I told you so’. James could be grateful for the small things in life.

Still, on the drive back James felt mutinous, and Q was clearly tired from the stress of possible birth. His hands clenched petulantly on the wheel. He wanted their pup, wanted Q to go into labour, but at the same time wanted to get Q back and rested up, well fed. Into a warm nest.

Not only might that speed up the labour, hopefully, but it would give Q the energy he’d sorely need for the event itself. Seeing Q today, now, after even the fake contractions and excitement, James couldn’t help but fret.

Q had never been the healthiest of people, and this had been a tough pregnancy. He remembered that fatigue was one of the common dangers of labour.

James wanted their pup, but he worried over Q too.

They simply both needed to be here and healthy and in a medium where James could protect and guard them. Now.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get your baby soon Bond.” Daniel joked kindly from the back, clearly amused at seeing the memories of his own first pregnancy play out. James growled slightly with no real harshness and just kept driving both the omegas home.

Soon wasn’t soon enough, even if he was worried about the pain for Q.

Maybe he’d give Q a hip massage later, just to help things along.

 

-00Q00-

 

“Remind me again why this was a good idea?” There was a heavy sigh from the elder Holmes brother.

“Sherlock, whether it is in two weeks or two days, soon our baby brother will be going into labour.”

“I gathered.”

“It is our duty to make sure he is not only being kept in the best of health but is also prepared for any eventuality.”

“You’re just attempting to clock in hours now so that you wont be invited to the messy part.” Sherlock deduced.

“And _you’re_ clocking in hours now in the hope that you _will_ be invited to the messy part.” Mycroft countered.

“It would be a fascinating process to observe. Funnily enough no one’s ever let me watch before.”

“Can’t imagine why.” The dry reply was met with a scowl.

“Don’t be high and mighty when you’re afraid of a bit of blood.”

“I am hardly afraid of a bit of blood. I simply wish to avoid the… _bawling_.” Mycroft shuddered, Sherlock’s smirk spread to a grin.

“Oh I’m sure some bawling could be arranged-“

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No!”

The pair arrived at the door to the Bond-Holmes household, as it was in their minds at least, and the alpha rapped smartly on the door with his umbrella.

“Remind me why we’re here again?” Sherlock repeated to another, more aggravated sigh.

“Would you rather come back when James is at home too? Fretting and clinging and posturing over Aster?”

“…Good move.”

“I rather thought so, myself.”

“Don’t milk it.” There was a moment’s pause as they heard some waddling footsteps approaching Godzilla-like from the within. “I’m sure they’ll be room for you to get a ring side seat, Mycroft, they even give out scrubs these days to keep your shoes from getting dirty.”

The older man’s affronted and unimpressed retort was cut short into a snarl by the door opening. Both men turned as one to smile pleasantly at their frowning youngest sibling.

“Aster, dear, I trust all’s well?” The flushed and swollen-bellied omega looked between the two of them with a vaguely aghast expression.

“Christ, what are you both doing here?” He frowned a might harder. “Why are you both smiling like that?” Both elder Holmes’ smiles spread as they walked up the steps and bustled their pyjama-clad, over burdened sibling back into the house.

“Never mind that my little Star.”

“Why? Is it wrong that we show up? It’s Mycroft’s fault, of course.” Sherlock insisted, taking Q’s arm and leading him back to the sitting room where large heaps of bedding lay amassed on the floor. Mycroft sighed for a third time, heavily, and shut the door behind them.

 

-00Q00-

 

“Not that this isn’t charming, but why are you here?” Q couldn’t help being a little short, he was aching and sore and trying to nest and both brothers appearing at once without familiars rarely heralded a good thing.

Rubbing his distended belly, Q came to a stop when Sherlock released him on sight of the blanket heaps. Blasty was sitting low, very low, uncomfortably low. It was getting Q a bit flustered, because it was putting pressure on his hips uncomfortably and felt rather…imminent. As if any remaining days of pregnancy were simply borrowed time before he was due.

Certainly he _felt_ due.

James cooing at Blasty to come out and massaging his hips to help loosen them comfortably was doing little to help.

“Are we not allowed to visit our brother?” Mycroft queried haughtily. And, yes, of course they were allowed, so Q just huffed a hot breath and sat back down in a chair near the piles. He’d rather not stand up, really.

“No, its fine. But I wont be much company I’m afraid.” Sherlock was looking around in complete lack of understanding.

“What is all this?”

“Nesting.” The answer seemed to bemuse his brother, who cocked his head, eyes darting around briefly before sharply scanning Q.

“I see.” The man strode over and dropped to a knee, pressing his hands to Q’s hips. “Hmmm, as I thought, nearly due.”

“W-what?” He knew as much, but to have it confirmed by another was particularly nerve-wracking.

“Your hips, loose, and posture, the position of your belly, the sudden increased urge in nesting. Clearly your also starting to subconsciously prepare for the baby given the assortment of organised infant items strewn around in strategic locations. Also the pain lines under your eyes and bitten fingers from Braxton Hicks and the easy to remove clothes-“

“Enough, Sherlock.” Mycroft scolded slightly whilst Q just sat there dazed. The alpha stepped forwards, opened his mouth to speak, and froze, eyes fixing on Q.

“Oh my.” Both younger Holmes’ swung to the older, who sniffed, and then walked slowly closer to drop a hand to Q’s belly. “You-“

“Smell different.” Sherlock finished, eyes widening with comprehension. “The hips-“

“Yes.” Mycroft confirmed. Q’s spine shot through with anxiety.

“Wh-“ Both brothers halted his shifting movements up and instead handled him to lie down on blankets on the floor.

“You can both smell it? It’s meant to only be alphas-“

“You’re my brother, I’ve always been particularly attuned to your scent.” Sherlock interrupted, watching with fascination as his hands skated over Q’s wriggling hips. Feeling uncomfortable and more than a little shocked and terrified by what they were insinuating, Q looked from one brother to the next.

“Your hips, they’re loosening, the hormones must have started being released into the bloodstream.“

“How long is that?” Sherlock questioned, glancing over at Mycroft for clarification and holding both of Q’s shaking hips in a firm-gentle bracket. Q felt exposed and trapped, protected from what was to come by only the hands on him and Mycroft’s next words.

“From the onset of the hormone production its nearly always one to two days at most, with a sudden scent from the ligaments of alarm when the dislocation is about to happen.”

Q breathed out a bit, shakily, but his fingers still trembled as he reached for his phone, hashing out a quick _–come home-_ text to James.

One-two days. He could do that. There weren’t any contractions yet; though the order wasn’t predictable they usually started before the hips went.

“I can’t leave.” Mycroft reflected. Sounding almost curiously interested by the prospect. “I think you’ve actually affected my own predisposition to protect, Aster, how very fascinating.” Sherlock snorted.

“This will be worth the taxi fare.” He commented. Mycroft scowled, but focused on sitting next to Q more steadily. The buzzing of his phone distracted Q’s flickering eyes for a moment.

_-Leaving. Is it coming? Call me.-_

_-Mycroft and Sherlock think they scent my hips going. No contractions. Can’t talk, might be sick. Nerves.-_

Q responded with swiftly, really thinking it best if he didn’t open his mouth right now.

“Water. And a snack. Food’s good, I’ve heard food’s good.” Sherlock started, faffing, standing, clearly not quite sure what to do with himself. Q could almost see the uncharacteristic ‘oh shit’ levels of panic on his brother’s face and burst out laughing from the bizarreness and tension. The relief in pressure felt amazing on his previously tense body.

“No need, I just ate.”

“Ridiculous.” Sherlock opposed, ignoring the laughing to get away. Mycroft was shifting and shifting, attempting to look stern and in control but clearly out of his depth somewhat. Unsure whether to touch or not.

Sherlock started banging away in the kitchen, ranting, and Mycroft sat stiffly. Q sighed. He could laugh through it, knowing it wasn’t _quite_ yet and knowing James was on his way… But he couldn’t quite take his brothers having a breakdown around him.

“I really would rather just have a nest, James is on his way, no need to panic.” Well, that was what he was telling himself anyway. Maybe having his brother’s comic relief was helping in a certain way.

“Nest. Right. Of course. So _stupid_! Of course you’ll want a nest. Comfort, security-“

“Calming down the hormones, encouraging a relaxed and positive response, will help the body naturally loosen and prepare.” Mycroft finished, matter-of-factly, seeming to regain his confidence with the practicality.

Q decided to ignore how his brothers talked about him as if reciting from a textbook and just let them smother closer and begin to faff around with the blankets.

“Optimum nesting usually occurs when the subject is completely surrounded in a firm-yet-loose base to cover ratio-“

“No no no. Foolish, Sherlock, completely missing the details, this is a _pregnancy_ nest which means-“

“ _Specificity_. Of course. So-“

“Family members firmly inside and doing the supporting of the base layer, belly support, manoeuvrability. Snug yet easy on-and-off cover layers.”

Q lay there, head dizzy with stunned hilarity and barely aborted thrill and nervousness.

He was going into labour. He was nearly going into labour.

His hips were about to dislocate and his brothers were fighting about how best to comfort him into a nest.

Manic laughter threatened to bubble up in the omega’s throat as he watched the madness unfold around him and kept his hands and thoughts firmly on his belly and hips.

One day, two days from now, he was going to start going into labour. Contractions would start soon. His hips were going to snap. He was going to see his and James’ pup. He was going to give birth.

_Oh fuck._ Was about the only thought that truly managed to suffice.

 

-00Q00-

 

There was nothing suave about it. Nothing at all.

He nearly crashed the car and practically tripped over his own feet whilst running to the house. Somehow his shirt and tie had become un-tucked and loose on the mad dash and car drive home, tugging at the material in fret and stress to get back to Q.

_Keep it together, keep it together. Christ, a baby. Now. Q’s going into labour, now!_

“Q!” For the second time that week James burst into the house shouting his mate’s name.

What he was met with was a manically moving nest and a scent that nearly wrenched his gut out in Q’s direction.

“Oh good, the mate’s here.” Hearing _Sherlock’s_ sarcastic voice coming from under the blanket mound was more of a relief than James had ever thought possible. Q wasn’t alone. Not alone, that was good.

“James-“ Q’s head and shoulders appeared from under the blankets, soon blocked out by a standing and business-like Mycroft.

“Ah, excellent, into the nest, if you would.” James was beckoned by the older alpha into the nest and Sherlock smothered the pair of them with a duvet the instant James lay down beside Q.

The alpha wasted no time in taking Q’s face in his hands and kissing him, looking at him, kissing him again.

“Are you alright? Have you felt anything? Can I do anything?” Q reached up and gripped James’ hands, a shaky half-nervous laugh escaping him.

“Nothing’s happened. Probably won’t be for a while yet. One day, two days. No need to panic.” James breathed out in wonder and relief as he took in Q’s slightly discomforted but otherwise calm face, his smile.

“Christ, Q. Your bloody brave beautiful.” James pulled him close, burying his face in the crook of the omega’s neck and inhaling that strange _urgent_ smell. It was doing numbers on his inner calm, but the scent was also anchoring, promising. Q laughed a little against him, snuggled in tight till their bellies pressed together.

“I’m not doing anything yet.”

“You’re not panicking, that’s impressive enough.” James turned and kissed Q’s hair. “I’m not leaving.”

“Okay.”

 

-00Q00-

 

The evening progressed oddly and on a few tenterhooks, but gradually the tension eased off as Q experienced no changes.

Mycroft called in dinner that he somehow knew Q would want, Sherlock begun calling John to come over before Q insisted that he didn’t want a crowd. James personally agreed.

“But he’ll be coming to the hospital.” Sherlock half demanded, half confirmed. Q let out a half amused and half disbelieving breath from where he was sitting, cooling off at the table with James pressed close and a glass of water.

“It could take _hours_. Are you sure you want to be there?”

“Yes.” Sherlock replied, sounding astounded that Q couldn’t see why. “It’s a once in a lifetime spectacle.”

At the stony and disbelieving faces around him Sherlock turned rapidly between them and shrugged.

“What?”

“A spectacle, Sherlock?” Mycroft asked, voice fairly pained and exasperated.

“Oh alright _miracle_ , whatever you want.” Q dropped his hand from running through messy hair and fixed his middle brother with a look.

“You do know you’re not coming into the room, right?”

Sherlock proceeded to sulk for the rest of the evening until Q pretended to fall asleep so that James could chivvy them out.

Whilst the protectiveness and kindness of the brothers was appreciated, really the alpha thought they just wanted the evening alone.

No stress allowed tonight.

“So, how do you want to celebrate?” James asked, coming back over to where Q was bundled up in some blankets on the sofa.

“Hmm?”

“Our last night alone.” Q’s eyebrows rose in understanding as James sat down beside Q and pulled them together close.

“I hadn’t thought, really… Just,” an eloquent hand emerged from blankets and captured James’. “This, together, this is nice…” Q paused to think for a moment. “And I will apologise now for any behaviour whilst in labour.” James smiled, relaxing, and pulled Q deep into him under the blankets, earning a muffled squeak and then rumble.

“Consider yourself completely entitled to call me whatever names you can think of, and crush at many limbs as you need.”

Blanket-Q snuggled up against him, curling hands into his shirt and nuzzling him there. James smiled and pulled his arms around his mate.

Tonight would be just for them.

Q remained bodily uncomfortable and wincing whenever he moved, but they enjoyed some films and food and neither proposed anything other than sleeping on the couch. It was uncomfortable, but wordlessly neither wanted to risk Q’s hips on the stairs, just in case.

 

-00Q00-

 

Sleep hadn’t really been going Q’s way. Braxton Hicks kept trying to creep back, along with aching and cramps and all manner of discomforts. Not really enough to wake him, just turn him restless… That was until it felt like someone had stuck a hand up inside him and clenched his insides from the bottom up.

“Mmnnnrr,” Q groaned, the sound turning at the end into a brief whimper as the cramping spiked…

_Oh no. It couldn’t be._ Q’s eyes flew open as the pain receded, panting a little. Uncomfortable all day, cramps throughout the night… Barely breathing for uneasiness, Q went to sit up, thinking that if moving positions stopped it then maybe he just really needed the toilet.

_They said two days, they said two days!_ He ranted uselessly, internally, taking a breath and pushing himself up by firmly planted arms.

James stirred at the movement, and Q thought nothing of moving to stand until placing his feet on the floor and putting weight on his hips.

The most god-awful flare and stab of _wrong wrong oh shit_ pain slammed across his pelvis and with a sickening double crack Q screamed out a yelp and lost all ability to hold himself up.

 

-00Q00-

 

Something in the air had been dragging James into consciousness before he felt Q shift beside him on the couch. A stabbing scent of pure vulnerability spiked the room and the alpha’s gut clenched, lurching upright and automatically towards Q just before the omega yelled out in pain.

Eyes still half-asleep James’ hands caught and grabbed onto Q around the waist and chest, steadying him. The younger man was panting cries that sounded like the whines of a kicked puppy. The weight was wrong, dangling useless limbs of Q’s legs hanging limp.

Realisation shot James in the chest enough to steal his breath even as he settled Q down on his back on the couch. The alpha tried moving as slow and gently as possible but it still hurt.

“AH! Ah, shit, mmnnn.” Q bit his lips and clawed into the material of the sofa, white knuckled.

“Breathe Q, come on.” James coaxed shakily, reaching out to turn on a nearby lamp and shed light into the room with one hand. The other stayed firmly placed on Q’s belly. “Was that your hips?” He asked, rather dimly, but the pain-laced scent coming off Q was clouding his senses somewhat.

“Y-yes, yes.” Q panted, tightened his grip and mewled in pain. “Nnnn and contractions.”

“Right.” But still he stood for a moment, spare hand moving to Q’s sweaty forehead, feeling the impending thought of birth and baby seep into him. The abrupt scent had dulled from Q already but still attacked his protective instincts into overdrive, as if he needed it. Never had he been more grateful for his highly attuned senses. But this was hardly a moment for reflection.

“Easy love, I’ll get your things.” The calm came to him like a well-worn glove even as Q whimpered and shook a little on the sofa. It tore him apart to leave Q’s side, but getting his mate to the safety of a hospital was now the top priority.

The bags had been at the front door for weeks, all James needed was to sprint them over the road and into the car, getting it out of the garage and in front of the house. At this hour of the morning, it wasn’t going to disturb anyone. Still, he wished bitterly that they’d done even as much as put the bags in the car earlier. If Q hadn’t so –sensibly- pointed out that James was likely to total the thing at any given moment, they would have.

Dashing back into the house James could hear Q taking some deep breaths and hurried back to his labouring omega. Christ, and Q really was going into labour. After all this time it seemed surreal.

“We’re ready, are you alright? How does it feel?” James asked, keeping his voice calm as he knelt down beside Q and reached hands to one of his omega’s trembling ones, along with a shoulder.

“We, we should time them, for now, they aren’t so bad, I was just shocked.” Q breathed out, calming a little. James frowned and ran a hand through his mate’s dark hair, encouraging him to open his eyes.

“Are you sure?” Green eyes opened half-mast as Q breathed out slowly. After a moment he looked at James, clearly he was a bit afraid, pupils blown.

“Everything feels very…odd.” James curled closer to him. “But not _abnormal_. We should wait a bit, probably. Better here than going to the hospital and being turned back…” Q trailed off a bit, unsure, face still pinched and a bit pale.

“I don’t want you hurting.” Q managed to smile a bit at that.

“The hips don’t hurt so much, s’long as I don’t move them. They weren’t lying, it numbs things a bit.”

“It’s the ‘when I don’t move’ bit I don’t like.” James grumbled, holding Q’s hand tighter.

“Nor do I much… half an hour? Or sooner if it gets worse?” James grumbled a bit, uneasy.

“How can you be so calm?” Q laughed, a slightly stunned sounding thing.

“I’m bloody terrified!” He sobered a bit. “But it would be good to know how the contractions progress… have a cup of tea…” James’ face softened.

“You and your bloody tea.” Chuckling a bit, James kissed Q’s forehead.

“One cup of tea, but then we have to go Q, your nerves might take it, but mine can’t. Your hips just dislocated for Christ’s sake.” Q grimaced at the memory and then murmured a little noise of discomfort.

“It’s building again, time it.” James looked to his watch to take note of the time. “Better get that tea made quick.” Q added; voice slightly pinched in pain.

James didn’t. He stayed there by Q’s side until the contraction had peaked and passed, holding onto the grimacing man’s hand.

 

¬-00Q00-

 

Emotions were a swirl in James’ mind as he prepared his shaking mate a mug of tea, sat by him through a few increasingly frequent contractions and held his hand.

As the latest contraction subsided Q took a few breaths and opened his eyes again.

“Time to go, I think.”

James stood without a word and put the mugs aside. Fortunately, he had the benefit of being physically fit enough to carry Q. Just. Otherwise he’d have had to call Alec to help, and no doubt Q would have found that mortifying.

“Okay, I’m going to have to carry you.” Q nodded a bit, still in some discomfort, and raised his arms.

James tried to be as careful as he could when sliding his arms under Q and lifting him, but the man still flinched and cried out a little in pain when his hips shifted, mewling with hurt against James and clutching onto him.

“Alright?” He questioned.

“Al-“ Q paused, blinked rapidly, and both of them looked down to where there was a patch of damp spreading through his pyjamas and onto James’ sleeve. “Oh. Well that’s-“

“Your waters?”

“Shit.” James took off without another word, nearly sprinting again for the door, uncaring about his own clothes in favour of getting Q to the hospital. He knew there was no way to tell, but things could go either very slow or very fast after this part, and he wasn’t risking another second.

“Hold on.” He demanded, pushing open the door and staggering down the steps. Damn but Q was heavy.

“Not really got another option.” Q replied through gritted teeth, breathing through the dislocation pain with his nose in James’ neck for the securing scent.

The car was close, but getting Q in was a bit difficult. They managed, Q propped up on a mound of pillows and home nesting blankets in the back, barricaded in and hips supported. The omega was still breathing through the resonating agony of the move by the time James got into the driver’s seat and the Aston roared into life.

“NNgghhhuurr.” Q groaned from the back, twisting away a bit and biting down a whimper at the end. “Could we have some music please?”

“Preferences?” James responded casually, half focused on the traffic and half on Q in the back seat. Well, more of a 40-60 mix. Or 30-70.

“Anything, just a distraction.” The car couldn’t be comfortable. Ideally, in their evolutionary pasts, James doubted that omegas would have been moved at all after snapping.

“Alright then.” Hoping to keep Q’s spirits high, and believing that laughter might be the very best medicine right now; James silenced the radio before tuning it to a country station. As the sound bubbled up, so did Q’s laughter. Strained but undeniably genuine.

“God James, pick a bloody time!” Q accused, laughing through his wincing. James grinned back.

“You said anything.”

“I will kill you, I will get my brothers to kill you, and Alec.”

“Duly noted.” Both still laughing, James switched the station louder and to heavy R&B.

“You’re making Blasty squirm!” Q complained through fits of laughter and slight tears of pain.

James just grinned and continued. He may not be able to push for Q, or help his legs not hurt, but this he could do. Protecting Q, even if from nerves, was his aim and target.

Which is how the two ended up driving into the parking lot of the hospital with a particularly dramatic hymn pounding through the speakers and onlookers staring at them whilst they laughed, Q’s occasionally seizing into quiet ‘ow’s.

Whatever else, James had gotten them to the hospital as healthy as he could. As he stood to dash round to get Q out, all he could pray was that the low stress of the moment could be continued. That it would be fast. That pup and Q would be safe and healthy…

Well, he could beg for a myriad of things, but for now getting Q out of the car and into a decent bed was the main thing. Then they’d get this baby out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Drum roll here we go!  
> It's late and I've got to work tomorrow so shan't write much but hope you enjoyed and let me know your hopes/fears/thoughts!  
> Actually genuinely I'd appreciate any critique for this chapter. I've not been through childbirth, and not sure how graphic/realistic etc to drive the next chapter. Is it alright so far? I'll just sit here and pretend I know what I'm doing until then 'xD Many many birth videos have been watched in preparation. I may be a little scarred O.o To any mums out there, simply a round of applause, you marvels.
> 
> Anyway! Thank you for the wonderful comments and kudoses, they really made my week! And earned many dances ;3  
> See you next chapter!


	48. H0: Its time; H1: Blasty in the spotlight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YaaaaahHOOOOOO we've made it!!  
> Please enjoy!
> 
>  **WARNING!:** Birth. Not particularly graphic in terms of bodily...things too much, but there will inevitably be bits and obviously discomfort. Take at your discretion.

Oooh God it hurt. This was not so much fun.

James had, thankfully, hailed some of the hospital staff who had emerged with a reclining wheelchair. Fortunate, given that Q couldn’t even bare thinking about more jostling than was necessary. The car ride had been sickening enough. Although, given he couldn’t focus on either contractions or his hips fully, the pain was at least somewhat fragmented.

He just hoped it was quick.

“Alright there, we’re just going to get you out, in and settled. Try and relax for me.” Q did his best, James hovering like a thundercloud waiting to strike behind them. Whereas it had taken only his secret agent mate to get Q into the car, it took no less than three hospital staff to get him out and safely situated into the wheelchair.

Q just bit his lip and closed his eyes. James had managed to find his hand somehow and the midwives were operating as a well-oiled team around him. Every time his legs were moved the nauseatingly wrong sort of pain overwhelmed him a bit. It wasn’t a good feeling either, being so vulnerable. There was no way he could just run away from it all.

“Q, can you-“

“If you don’t mind, we should probably get him into a gown now, rather than move the two of you again.” The omega felt a prickle along his arm as if sensing James ruffling at not being allowed to comfort his mate first. Q felt a little bit the same, but appreciated the swift action at least.

“M’okay.” He managed, squeezing James’ hand tight in silent ask for help. He didn’t really want strangers undressing him, but he couldn’t move his legs himself knowing the discomfort it would cause. With one hand he reached and begun unzipping the jumper he was wearing.

James swiftly caught on and bent to help as Q kept his eyes shut. The staff backed away and only came forward to help when it came to supporting his hips.

The world settled back into itself slowly once Q was situated back on a bed, legs fixed soundly into a pair of stirrups and lower back supported by a specialist pillow.

A few deep breaths later Q could compute that in this position his hips barely hurt, instead a relieving kind of numbness. After a moment, Q could open his eyes.

James’ face was above him, instantly focusing in when their eyes met.

“Okay?” One of his mate’s hands was against the side of his face, sweat mingling as a thumb stroked his temple, the other held Q’s own hand tight.

“I think so.” He responded, attempting a smile. James appeared to disregard the smile, still standing hyper vigilant over him. Q took a moment to shut his eyes again and relax, drinking in the safety of James’ hands and the relief of the ebbed pain. Once he felt a bit steadier he looked around the room.

It was a private room with an en-suite and the expected multitude of equipment. In the corner, waiting, was a prepared plastic baby cot. James’ eyes drew over to it as well.

“You ready for this?” Q laughed a bit, incredulously, and looked over at James’ sharp blue gaze.

“It’s a little late to be having doubts now, darling.” A slight upturn of lips managed to break James’ stony façade, relaxing him slightly. Both of them.

“You might be right about that love.” The alpha shifted until he could perch on the side of the bed, looking over him. Q did the same, staring down his abruptly foreign looking body.

The gown was a rather ‘fetching’ shade of blue-grey that James had insisted brought out his eyes, and looked little better than a thigh-length shirt. Q figured it wouldn’t matter if it got filthy and ruined. Disposable as it was. Seeing his legs spread open in the air was distinctly more unnerving, even if he was covered by a sheet and thin blanket from the waist down. For now the room was quiet.

“The midwife is going to be in in a minute to talk to us and do checks.” James informed, Q nodded vaguely, brining a hand up to rest on his stomach and then run through his hair.

It was hard to be entirely calm, knowing that any minute…

“Hmm. Another one’s coming.” Q informed, feeling the slight pinching ache form and begin to grow in his stomach. James shifted to wrap his arms further around Q, under his shoulders and holding onto both belly and hand somehow at once.

He didn’t like these contractions, and hoped he wouldn’t have the time to get used to them, also holding his stomach. Could Blasty feel them? If it felt this bad for him would it hurt to have it squishing around your head?

The sensation climbed until Q was breathing heavily through his nose and squinting his eyes again. There wasn’t an urge to make much noise right now, and the sound of his own pain would only upset James… that was going to happen enough later anyway, probably.

 _Just save your strength, try to relax through it._ Q coached himself, but did eventually turn his face into James’ shoulder with a shaky huff as the contraction peaked and remained for a long seeming while before it started to lower. If his breathing sounded a bit whimpery, well, Q decided he could be excused that much. James seemed to relax along with him as the vice-like cramp subsided.

“You alright?”

“Mmm, they’re getting longer, and more powerful.” Q explained, blinking up at James. The alpha bent to kiss him softly, going silent and stoic as he tended to when Q was in any sort of distress.

“You’re doing good Q, really good.” It was ridiculous how the praise seeped into his bones with a pleasantly shivery feeling, but again, he was giving birth, he was allowed to feel…mushy.

“I’m not doing anything yet… I’m a bit worried about starting to, actually.” James pressed their foreheads together for a moment until the most ungodly scream muffled through the air from outside the door. It was a horrible, groaning, dying animal of a thing that had them both stiffening and sitting up as much as possible. James instantly positioned himself slightly over Q on instinct, until their eyes met.

“Is that… that’s someone else isn’t it?” Q covered his mouth, a nervous smile of slight hysteria being hidden.

James had gone awfully pale and was growling low and uneasily constant.

“You’ll be fine. You’re doing fine.” The alpha insisted. The screams and groans continued in the background.

“I’m a bit nervous now.” Q stated, as if he hadn’t been for months. Since the beginning. James nearly flattened himself over Q as if a solid wall of muscle and flesh would block out the screams.

Hearing some choice swear words cut through the air, they both started chuckling a little hysterically, relaxing a bit, clinging to each other.

“If I haven’t said it, I’m very, very glad you’re here.” Q said, meaning every word. James’ steady, also completely novice presence, was soothing on a number of levels.

“I’m not leaving you.” James affirmed, nuzzling into Q’s neck where other alphas might be running for the hills. Or at least a smoke.

Q scratched James’ head, soothing for the both of them, and continued to try and find the funny side to this, rather than the terrifying one.

Really, it was hilarious enough that he’d even ended up in this situation, after a lifetime of doubting it would ever happen. To think that it was James Bond with him, well, that was particularly tickling.

“You know, I really didn’t think we would ever be here.”

“…Neither did I.” James admitted, and both shared another laugh, managing to untangle slightly, the alpha moving to prowl around the room as Q asked him to inspect certain objects and review the bathroom.

 

-00Q00-

 

They were alone in the delivery room for about 15 minutes before their midwife showed up. It wasn’t too long a wait really, James managed to explore the room and satisfy himself with its relative upkeep in the time. More difficult was seeing Q on the bed, hooked up to things and strapped into equipment and overall looking pretty helpless.

The midwife, well, midwives, entered with smiles however.

“Hello there I’m John and I’ll be- great scot, _Q_?!”

“John.” Q replied a bit dimly, simply staring at the all too familiar beta doctor. James wasn’t faring much better.

“What, I didn’t know you were, Christ, well.” He flustered a bit, running a hand over his mouth, clipboard perched on his hip with the other. John’s accompanier, and older beta woman, looked between the lot of them.

“I’m sorry, you all know each other?” She asked, peering at John.

“Yes he’s my Sherlock’s brother.” The other woman, whose nametag read ‘Mary’ looked them over with some incredulity and amused surprise.

“Oh, well then, bit of a reunion. I suppose we should get you seen by someone else.” John breathed out in disbelief and shook his head.

“Of course, yes, just, how are you?” Being the caring soul he was, John came over to put his hand on Q’s shoulder, also meeting James’ eyes. “Doing alright?” Q was evidently still baffled.

“What are you doing here?”

“Not your usual area of expertise.” James pointed out, also squeezing Q’s shoulder.

“No, well I,” John took a breath for a moment. “Seeing you two go through pregnancy made me want to try something different. I’m in training.” He gestured to Mary, who waved with an amused smile and ‘hello’. “Does Sherlock know?”

“Only just got here.” James pointed out; focus switching as Q took a breath through his nose, eyes shutting as he rode another contraction.

John became business-like in an instant, monitoring the read out on some paper from one of the many machines and then checking Q’s vitals, putting assessing hands on his belly. When the omega winced and made a small whimpering of pain –one of the first by James’ instantly alert senses- the beta was quick to soothe him.

“Easy now, nice deep breaths for me, in… and out. There you go. Here, squeeze my hand.” Q did when it was placed in his own, also making bruises on James’. “Is the pain getting stronger?”

“Mmhmm.” Q managed, refusing to open his mouth.

“Okay, that’s a good sign. These things should go fast with omega male pregnancies, its what we want. I’ll just take a look at you…” After looking up however, the doctor seemed to realise where he was, and looked round a little lost. “Oh, well I won’t I suppose. But we’ll send someone else in for you.”

He seemed regretful, and James decided he didn’t want to see the man go. He knew John, trusted him. There was also a senior midwife on hand. Rules of family not being able to treat each other medically be dammed, he didn’t want any strangers touching his Q.

Mary seemed to be looking appraisingly over them and coming to the same conclusion.

“Hmm actually, it’s entirely up to you two of course, but you seem like a good match. If you’re comfortable, then we could keep it like this. After all, friends and family have to help in home births all the time, not to mention all our midwives come in here to give birth. The same rules don’t apply as they would to, say, an operation.”

Q looked between James and John as his contraction eased, breathing a little hard. The alpha could see why there would be a problem for Q. He was the one who had to have his lower parts looked at after all, and by a friend no less. James leaned close, blocking off the room as best he could.

“What do you think?” Q blinked, looking a bit lost in the pain, but he could see the contemplation there. More to the point, he knew Q trusted John as well. And given his mate’s history with vulnerable positions and strangers, this had to be more relaxing, didn’t it?

“Alright.”

“You sure?” Q just nodded, closing his eyes as if to grab a moment of rest. James turned back to the two waiting betas.

“We’ll take you.” He smiled, John looked delighted for a moment, terrified, and then proud.

“Right, well, let’s see how you’re getting on then, shall we?”

James stayed firmly up by his quartermaster’s head as Mary and John investigated below.

“Tell me if it gets too painful for you alright?” Mary coaxed. James held Q’s hand and stroked his hair, feeling a bit lost and a bit of a spare part. They’d both read the same books, gone to the same classes, but there was just some part of him that couldn’t fathom what Q must be feeling. His omega’s scent, overwhelmed with emotions as it was, didn’t provide the indicator James had hoped for. And he’d thought he’d always know everything when it came to Q. It was one of the things he prided himself on. Being in the blue was tough, especially when Q seemed to be coping by going silently stoic.

The female beta was evidently doing something uncomfortable, because Q was looking away again, breathing and emitting a small, bitten off whine before the lady removed her hand.

“Very good. Your secondary passage has opened to six centimetres, looking nice and clear. Won’t be long at this rate.” She smiled. John seemed relieved as he felt along Q’s pelvic fracture.

“Nice clean snap here too, nothing feels out of normal range. Should go back nicely.” John smiled up at them encouragingly.

“Okay.” Q murmured, face not leaving the safety of James’ arm.

“More than half way.” James coaxed, pointed out, encouraged. Something. Q being so silent worried him a little. He’d expected screaming, been prepared for what the movies exaggerated. This silence was a touch unnerving. The omega breathed out a shaky breath.

“Good. Nnggh dammit.” Another contraction. James tightened his grip everywhere.

“It’s good Q, this is good, just what we want.” John cheered on, covering Q back up and looking through the notes.

“You’re doing great, the faster the better remember.” Mary added, putting away her file and handing it to John to look over. She smiled at them.

“Do you know the sex?”

“No.” James responded, focussing on Q mostly but happy for the distraction from Q’s pain.

“Good, makes you push harder you know.” Mary added a bit conspiratorially. “You’re doing very well for a first time.” James, despite himself, felt proud on Q’s behalf, focussing on his mate again when a quiet noise slipped out of Q.

He understood, at least, that omega male pregnancies were typically quick, more so than females. The body underwent almost a shock transformation into ‘birth-ready’ mode once the hips snapped. The longer they were dislocated for, after all, the worse. The quicker the birth the better for everyone.

“Looks like it’s going to be a quick one, if you’ve got any calls now’s a good time to make them.” She smiled knowingly at them, and then at John. “We’ll be back in a bit, ring the call button if you need.”

“Good luck, wont be minutes. Do you want me to call Sherlock?” John asked on his way out. Q shook his head and the beta nodded.

With the door closed, James turned to his mate, surprised.

“Call him. Speaker.” Q more or less demanded.

“Alright. Dare I ask why?” James said, already getting out his phone.

“Need the distraction. Next we’re calling Mycroft. That should be entertaining. Then Alec. Everyone.”

James watched Q’s pinched, tired face closely for a moment, replayed his slightly breathless voice and took careful hold of a shaking hand.

“Are you doing alright?” To anyone else, the question may have sounded obsolete, Q understood though.

“I’m fine, just hurts.” The omega admitted. James kissed his head and nuzzled into him for a moment before going ahead with the calls.

He could use the distraction too.

 

-00Q00-

 

_“It’s here? Now?”_

“On its way.” James replied to Sherlock’s sharp questioning. There was the sound of muffled crashes over the phone and scrambling. Both of them sat up a little at the noise, frowning at each other.

 _“Mrs Hudson! Mrs Hudson ready the balloons!”_ With that the phone went dead and Q looked over at James.

“That was…”

“Unexpected.” The agent finished, and tapped away Sherlock’s phone information from his screen with a frown. “Mycroft?”

“Alright.” Another cramping begun to swiftly creep up and Q turned instead to clamp onto James’ arm, muffling his unsteady keen there. He didn’t quite realise the soft give under his fingernails was James’ bicep until he pulled away and saw the marks under the alpha’s rolled up sleeves.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.” James smiled. “You’re scaring me by handling it so well.” Q frowned in doubt. He didn’t think he was handling it very well at all.

It hurt, and he was feeling miserable, and unsteady. He wanted to meet their pup now. Mostly he didn’t want to do this. Could he do this? It seemed unlikely. It was really hard!

“Please call Mycroft.” Q interrupted himself with, ducking his face into James’ arm again. Wordlessly the alpha complied.

 

-00Q00-

 

_“Now? But you’re not due for- oh never mind. Would you like me there? I’ll be right there.”_

“No need. I can call you after.”

“I’m with him.” James added, in a rather obvious fashion.

_“You’ve already called Sherlock I presume? I shall come. You’ll need someone to keep him out. How are your contractions, are you coming along fast enough?”_

“I’m fine Mycroft I’m, ohhhh noooo…” Q groaned and both hands went to cover his face, breathing hard.

_“Aster? Aster?”_

God, if it hurt for him what did it feel like for Blasty? Did it hurt?

Unwontedly, tears prickled at his eyes. On his shaky breath out it was obvious James could tell. The call to Mycroft went dead after a short goodbye and warm hands curled around his face.

“Q? Love?” Q took a few shaky breaths.

“I just want to see them, I want to know they’re okay.” James settled against him heavily.

“Me too.”

“Uuuggh bugger but it hurts.” His groan seemed to calm James slightly, ironically.

“You’re doing brilliantly. I couldn’t do it.” Q laughed a bit and smacked him lightly at the laugh in James’ voice.

“You’ll never bloody have to.” A deep breath steadied his nerves a little. “Was Mycroft okay?”

“He’ll live… And probably be here in less than five minutes.” Q tried to laugh, but felt the contraction building.

“Oh god are they meant to come this strong?” After that, he couldn’t speak much for panting, or ‘breathing’ as James was reminding him, with useful examples of how in case Q had forgotten.

It would be sweet, really, if his mind wasn’t occupied with thoughts of ‘owowowowowowow’ on an endless cycle.

When it faded, Q took a deep breath and managed to look at James’ overly alert eyes.

“You should probably call Alec now, I think.”

With an almost imperceptible gulp, James did.

 

-00Q00-

 

 _“Shit, mate, you alright?”_ James chuckled.

“He can hear you Alec.”

 _“…Then is he alright?”_ Q was busy having another contraction, and paused only to flap vaguely at the phone.

“He’s as well as can be expected. But he’s doing great.”

 _“Fuck. I’m coming over. Hang in there, both of you. Keep breathing-“_ Q threw a pillow in the general direction of the phone call.

“Better go. Don’t tell him to do anything.” James warned, fearing the wrath of Q building. He felt a bit better for it though. Irrational Q had always been one of his favourites, and one of his most familiar personality twists.

_“Duly noted. See you soon.”_

James hung up and returned to Q’s side as the doors opened with John and Mary again.

“So, how are we getting along?” Mary opened with. Q nodded vaguely, breathing hard, James rubbed over his belly soothingly. Q’s flushed face was not portraying happiness. It made the alpha’s gut clench. When the two midwives accidentally moved too fast towards his precious, first time-pregnant mate, the man couldn’t help snapping towards them with a snarl.

Both betas jumped back comically, eyes wide, hands raised.

“James no.” Q’s voice was anything but pleased, even as the alpha accepted the order he remained growling in the back of his throat at the other two. Slowly he bent down to smother over Q in an over-protective almost smoosh, causing a muffled protest and flailing from his omega.

“James, we have to examine him, okay? We need to know when it’s safe for your pup to come out.” John reasoned, voice calm and composed.

“You should probably let him breathe too.” Mary commented, looking both amused and surprisingly steely, as if she would forcibly beat James away lest he damage her patient.

With a reluctant grumble, James sat back down, remaining close and rather openly hostile.

The two betas shared a glance and then got to work hurriedly, Q hiding his face back in James’ arm and burying his nose in the crook of elbow whilst wincing. Other than a little whine here and there, Q remained silent for the exam.

 

-00Q00-

 

Having near enough someone’s hand inside you was never a comfortable feeling. The knowledge that a head bigger than a fist was going to be following it was downright terrifying.

“Okay, pup feels like it’s in a good position. Just a matter of time now. You’re nine centimetres, when you feel the urge to push, do.”

“Already?!” Q asked, panting, breathless. He’d said he wanted it to be fast, but that was fast. James sat up in excitement beside him.

“Could take a little while yet, but you’re doing brilliantly.” John added, beaming. Q let his head drop back on the bed as James nearly squirmed in glee. He could feel himself shaking. It was true, this needed to happen sooner rather than later, he was starting to feel the secondary creeping ache of his dislocated hips protesting to everything even whilst experiencing contractions. It bloody hurt, and he was bloody tired.

“Are you alright to keep going naturally or should we get you some pain relief?”

“Something, please.” James’ hand tightened on his own, and remained that way as Q was guided into breathing in some sort of special laughing gas concoction. Given the physiology of male omegas and rapid labour process, the gas was usually only given towards the end, unlike in females… Q was beginning to think that it worked a bit too well when John hiccupping made him cackle. Once the contractions started to build again however, dear god did it feel redundant.

“Oooh ooh nooo oh noo,” The rest of would be words dissolved into keens and whimpers he couldn’t hold back any longer.

James’ hand was just as much a vice as his own, but the alpha’s free fingers carded through his hair with much gentler pressure as he groaned. Careful kisses placed to his hairline and the man growling at any noise outside the door became Q’s sole surroundings for the next half hour.

Another snick of the door and growl from James heralded John’s entrance. Q hadn’t even realised the man had left, barely holding himself together as it was. The only reason tears weren’t on show were his eyes being closed, and his head was aching to match pelvis and everything below ferociously.

“Ahem. Sherlock’s arrived. Mycroft and Alec are here too, we’re keeping them out in the waiting room for now, I assume that’s-“ Q was nodding frantically even before John was finished. “Alright, that’s no problem. How are you doing?”

“Smells like he’s nearly ready.” Mary observed from where she’d been checking Blasty’s vitals. “Pup readouts are still strong. Any urge to push yet?”

There were so many awfulness’s going on with his body, and Q was pressed so much into James, tethering himself by scent, that for a moment he wasn’t sure.

“I don-I don’t know, I-“ both midwives stepped up and hurried closer, James’ growl turning a touch uneasy.

“You’re ready, next time you feel a contraction, I’d like you to push please.” John informed after a brief look under the sheet. Q didn’t have time to comply before he was being adjusted slightly and the sheets were moving away, leaving him exposed and quivering.

God his poor arse felt abused.

Only a brief moment of trepidation managed to grip him before another contraction, deadly in power, kicked up. Q turned into James’ arm, moaning, and remembered the request to push.

“Now?”

“Now, little pushes, start with a count of ten. One-“

And so it began.

Q quickly found that pushing was distinctly more painful and also the only thing his body wanted him to do. Given the brief, pleading and agonised looks he shot up at his alpha, the pained mewls escaping him were taking their toll.

James had gone a rather unnerving shade of grey, and stock-still. Remaining rock like but seemingly teetering on the edge of action.

“Come on Q, come on, another push, lets go now-“

But it hurt! This was fucking hard. Q sobbed his way through another push, crying, aloud with whimpers and in tears, as the stinging burning feeling begun to consume him, overwhelm him.

“I ca-I can’t, I can’t-“

“Come on Q-“

“You’re doing really good-“

“It’s alright, love, come on, you can do it.” Only James’ rough-voiced words, notable in their sudden addition to the ongoing pep talk, seemed to register.

He’d been pushing for ages, it didn’t feel any closer, he was bloody exhausted.

“I don’t want to.” He murmured, sobbed, petulantly, but regardless pushed on instinct when he felt the upswing in cramping.

 

-00Q00-

 

Truly ungodly noises were escaping Q’s poor throat. He looked on the edge of collapse, face red from pushing and hair damp with sweat, shaking. It was one of the hardest things James had ever had to watch. And he could smell blood, and Q’s stress. See the dull exhaustion and slightly feral desperation lacing his eyes.

“Not long now, I can see pup’s head crowning.”

“Oh god only just?” Q panted out with a sob, body going lax on the bed and trembling after the effort of the past half hour. James himself was sweating, and all he was doing was trying to coax Q.

It was longer than he’d thought, and agonising watching Q’s strength gradually sap away.

“You’re doing marvellously, this is brilliant.” Mary coaxed. “Come on, don’t stop now push!”

“Ggyckaahh.” James hid his wince and ducked in close as he could to encourage his hurting mate.

“Come on Q, you’re doing great. Push now, get our pup out gorgeous,” The litany seemed to be working, John and Mary’s voices down the end of the be were raising into another crescendo and Q’s face scrunched up again as he pushed, pausing to gasp and keep going.

James kept wordlessly blathering, feeling the room’s excitement picking up on him and rebounding, urging Q to keep going, keep pushing, even if watching his mate sob and tremble with pain and exhaustion was horrifying.

Q’s latest whimper turned gradually into a scream and the two betas cheered encouragement as Q collapsed back whimpering helplessly.

“That’s pup’s head out, Q, well done! That’s the hardest part.” Mary cooed, voice ecstatic.

“You’re bloody brilliant Q, Jesus Christ.” John was laughing, plainly in wondering delight.

“That’s my Q. So good, nearly there,” James kept up, nuzzling into Q’s limp neck as the man panted. He could barely draw breath, hand long past turning James’ black and blue. The alpha could feel every inch of him shaking.

“Take some breaths, build your strength. Next contraction should be the final one.”

 

-00Q00-

 

“One more push!” Bloody easy for them to say! That last one hurt like hell! Even in his mind Q’s voice was little better than a whimper.

_I can do this I can do this I can do this. One more, just for you Blasty. You better bloody love me for it._

Dragging in a few more breaths among the heady buzz fogging his mind and the demanding flurry of calls to push around him, Q did.

With a horrible groaning whine and renewed burning from below Q disconcertingly felt the final rush of pup emerge and be pulled out with a nasty squelch sound nearly masked by cheers. No sooner could he gasp in realisation of what he’d managed than a wet, vaguely blue-red and swollen-faced baby was plonked onto his chest in a limp splay and forcing him to scramble barely coordinated arms to capture the fragile pup.

“Jesus fuck!” Q swore as the two betas laughed and James’ hands scrambled after his own in support. Q couldn’t see beyond the tiny, curling and crying, gradually less-purple life in his arms. _Female_ life in his arms. Giddy exhilaration grabbed at him and made his heart soar. Good god they’d produced a daughter. A real live person…

“Oh my god, oohh god you’re so tiny. Oh so tiny. Oh no she might break?” Q looked up at James, pleading, worriedly, and caught the indescribable look of love and wonder in his bright, definitely damp blue eyes. His mate’s smile was enough to light up the room and cease world hunger but he couldn’t choose between that and the inability to tear his own gaze away from their squalling, perfect little pup. The alpha’s growing expression helped cease his worries somewhat, along with Mary and John’s chuckles as they saw to him and rubbed circulation into the baby.

John was pulling at his shirt collar to expose more skin for the pup to contact with. The feeling of flushed, fluid covered pup against his chest was somewhat indescribable. Their pup, their Blasty in his arms.

“Hello. Hello there, hi little pup, well you’re a little lady aren’t you?”

“She’s a girl? You’re sure?” James asked, bending over the pair of them, hand ghosting over the barley-there strands of fine, fair hair.

“Yes James I have eyes.” Q laughed out, dizzy, giddy. James’ bark of stunned laughter matched his own emotions.

“Christ, Rumbles is a lady after all.”

“Oh wow…” Nine months, and now he was holding that mystery life form. He couldn’t stop bloody shaking!

Small fists were curling against his chest, James’ gigantic seeming hands framing the near entirety of her torso… Small face scrunching and tossing just a little in new found, un-water-borne freedom.

The sight brought such a blinding wave of bone-deep affection that tears burned free from his eyes, laughing breathlessly along with James. He didn’t feel stable, or wise, or instantaneously motherly. But he felt utterly dotingly in love and over the bloody moon.

 _He’d_ done this. _They’d_ done this.

“Do you want to cut the cord?” James seemed to jump at the chance so fast his fingers were fumbling, but his work was seamless none the less.

“Here, lets get her weighed.” Mary temporarily gathered up pup and carried her over to the scale-station. “John.” The order was confusing for a moment before John ducked his hands around Q’s hips and gave James –who’d been watching where their pup had gone avidly- a look.

“Hold him for a second.” James complied and wrapped Q in a tight grip not moments before John squeezed with his hands. There was a sharp snap of pain and Q cried out, jerking in his mate’s hold as his pelvis was relocated. For a while after his breaths could only come as pained whines, James holding him tightly and John’s hands remaining steady on his hips.

The feeling of abrupt pain faded into a horrible ache that seemed to radiate throughout his body. Q’s head swamped with fatigue as his body rocked limply back into James’ hold, breathing ragged and hard.

“Q?”

“He’s alright, just tired.” John paused and looked down, grinning a moment before he moved to between Q’s legs and gathered up a horrible looking lump of what had to be placenta, forced out with the relocating of hips. Which was good, Q didn’t think he would have had the strength for another push. “Placenta’s out,” He held it up like a display piece. “Think Sherlock will want it?” Q was torn on whether to laugh throw up or cry, clutching James’ hand weakly with his still shuddering fingers until Mary turned back around with their now-swaddled babe.

“Seven pounds one ounce. You did well, She’s a very healthy girl.” Q reached up weak grabby hands for his pup and was duly rewarded with her, James helping bring them back together.

Pretty and pink now, rather than purple, the slightly swollen look had receded slightly. Slits of dark eyes cracked open above a small nose and pouted lips.

“Your nose.” James remarked, reaching a finger to stroke the tiny protrusion. Looking at James’ eyes was too much, the emotion there matching his own, astoundingly vibrant. Fatigue and elation, along with a healthy dose of disbelief overwhelmed Q.

Instead he ducked his pounding head forwards to sniff and snuffle along his pup’s neck. The aroma seemed to flood right down to his core… and it wasn’t dewy, like Stewie, or vivid like Beth, or focused like Mathew…

She smelled like peace. If peace was a scent…

Like those scant moments of soul consuming peace and contentment he’d snatched along the way in his life. Like all he’d ever hoped for, hoped for their pup…

“Now Blasty seems silly in comparison, you’re so beautiful.” Q pulled back from his murmured words against flushed, fresh skin. Blasty’s miniature nose wrinkled as though to sneeze as the little organ tried to take in the world around her. A soft huff off amazement came from both him and James.

“Someone’s dainty, aren’t you? Little Rumbles.” The alpha murmured, reverently, fingertips tracing brand new skin, calluses against perfect, soft cheeks.

“Definitely dainty.” Q sniffled again, tightness in his voice, breathing in that relaxing scent. “Dainty and an… what is she?” He turned to James, blinking tearfully. “I can’t smell,” James frowned and ducked, taking a long, deep inhale and also taking a turn scenting the limp neck that bent back a bit contentedly, fingers flexing. The alpha remained for long moments as a pure smile spread across his face, their pup’s weak snuffles soothing.

“She’s like you. Calm, tranquil.”

“…I thought she smelt like you?” Because James had always soothed him by scent alone. They met each other’s eyes as Mary chuckled in the corner.

“She smells like both of you, she’s a beautiful baby beta.”

James’ eyes were incredulous for a moment, before letting out a rather unintelligent ‘huh’ of contemplation.

“Well, didn’t see that one coming.” He laughed, and Q burst out with him, leaning to first kiss their pup on the warm, soft cheek, forehead, and then rest his aching, foggy head on James’ shoulder. There was a faint clicking sound in the background, John was beaming, crying, holding up a camera. Q couldn’t bring himself to blush.

“Sherlock’s going to be unmanageable! But she’s perfect, isn’t she perfect, aren’t you so gorgeous…” Q’s eyelids drooped, brain fogging, exhaustion swamping him darkly.

“Q, love?”

“Looks like mummy’s a little tired. Here, just try a suckle for a bit, then Daddy can take care of baby.”

Someone’s arms, not Q’s going lax ones –increasingly supported only by James’ own- guided Blasty, Rumbles, Blastles, their baby’s head down to the omega’s chest. Seemingly by instinct searching lips were aided in latching onto a nipple, suckling ineffectively at first.

“Wow that’s strange.” Q breathed out in a murmur, eyes closing as he felt what must be Mary’s hand massage his chest oddly, and then a weird, funny sort of suction promoted by the suckling, some sort of flow and their pup was drinking.

It was that, more than anything, that rendered Q speechless. Tears tripped freely down his face with hitched breaths. And though he was desperate to keep his eyes open to watch their pup, sleep just kept dragging them closed, body sinking under the guise like a floating thing, aches and pains numbing out temporarily.

“Love you, Q.” James spoke, voice low and quiet, reverent somehow. A kiss was placed to the corner of his mouth, one of James’ hands leaving their pup temporarily to tenderly brush back unruly hair.

Q took a shuddery, soft breath and hoped he mumbled similar back, but by James’ chuckle it was unintelligible.

“He’s going to be tired quickly for a while, but both your pup and mate are in perfect health, and the rest will do them good. Congratulations, you’re a father!”

The sound of James’ silent, breathless emotion lulled Q down finally into sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well there you have it! This was both incredibly hard and good to write. There were so many ways it could have gone, long, problematic, screaming, fits of rage, lots of people there...  
> But in the end, I thought I'd maybe tortured my characters enough for a change, and this felt right.  
> Sorry for the lack of Holmes'. To me it seemed like only James would be there, anyone else didn't seem likely. They will all meet and greet pup next chapter n_n
> 
> For any thinking John's sudden appearance was, well, sudden... well, it was! When thinking 'oh god they have to have midwives to help them, what should they be like?' John just seemed to walk in. And it stuck, for better or worse!  
> For any worried about Mary fret not! I love her character in the show, but there is absolutely no romantics between her and John here. She just also seemed to walk in at the right time! 'xD
> 
> And, most importantly, Blasty lives! Some may be disappointed, well, maybe most! Who knows? Do 00Q stories always seem to have daughters not sons? Apologies for that, I could never picture a boy, not for the first child anyway...  
> Unconventional to do an A/B/O story where the kid is a beta? Or is it pretentious? Who knows again! But baby-beta-girl Bond's official story b-day is the 25th of January sometime in the morning.  
> As for choices on the gender, I was torn for a long time, but beta just seemed to keep coming back to me after thinking about 00Q and their lives post-pup. So that was that!
> 
> I sincerely hope you enjoyed, and any un-composed replies to comments are en-route. For all the amazing and encouraging reviews last chapter, and kudoses, thank you guys!! You rock my socks, just saying ;3
> 
> (P.s. (god this is long, sorry...) I am planning another 2/3 chapters in this story. That or until I reach my aims of either 300,000 words or 50 chapters. Just for a heads up! ;D)


	49. H0: Welcome to the family; H1: Welcome to the pack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo on time and on schedule! (mostly...)  
> Here let there be meetings and names, enjoy!

Waiting rooms at hospitals were strange things. Several wards seemed to be connected down one long corridor where a few waiting cubbyholes had been filled with chairs. All he better to keep the grieving and panicking families out of the way of the stretchers, supposedly.

It was a tense group that waited there. Sherlock was standing point, a ridiculously large bouquet of balloons in his hand, portraying all numbers of ‘it’s a baby!’ variants. Mrs Hudson enjoyed a cuppa and chatted to the family next to them on some plastic chairs. Alec reclined with faux calm and maintained a casual glance at the doors. Mycroft was the only one missing. He stood with his arms crossed tightly against the cool January chill and smoked a cigarette with a closed expression.

The gentleman next to him in the appalling bus stop excuse for a smoking shelter looked over him with red eyes.

“You waiting on someone?” He asked, voice cracked.

“Yes. I fear for them greatly.” Mycroft replied, unable to hold tongue in the strange solidarity of the grieving shelter.

“Me too, my mate, god the surgery should save her but they were talking about complications and, god. Fuck…” He trailed off, Mycroft’s arms tightened.

Somewhere inside the youngest Holmes could be screaming in pain, succumbing to exhaustion, being taken down to the ER to be cut open.

“I just don’t know what I’ll do, what if it goes wrong? They can’t even tell me anything…” Mycroft hummed.

“I feel quite the same.”

“What about you, what’s brought you out here?”

Mycroft stubbed his cigarette out with a false pretence at calm.

“My youngest brother is giving birth.” For some reason, his solemn words were met with an expression of disbelief and outrage. “Excuse me.”

Honestly, some people failed to understand the severity of his situation.

Returning to the waiting room the eldest Holmes retook his place sitting primly beside Trevelyan.

They waited. Each timing the event in their own way.

After they had all been waiting for approximately 2 hours, Sherlock’s phone beeped and broke the stagnant silence.

After a quick glance at the message, the detective’s eyes widened dramatically.

“It’s here!” There was a scramble and several pairs of hands grappled for a look at the phone. On the screen was a picture message from John. Depicted in the photo was James Bond with an arm wrapped snugly around Q’s shoulders, the omega’s arms and James’ free one cradling a tiny bundle of fabric nearly hiding a pink face. Both were smiling in a way that could only be described as radiant. Beneath this picture John had typed simply _‘It’s a girl!’_

“Well, fuck me they actually did it.” Alec spoke, stunned amongst the silence. Mrs. Hudson chortled and smacked him whilst assuring him ‘oh it isn’t all that hard, people do it every day!’

Neither Holmes brother could tear their eyes away from the image for quite some time.

 

-00Q00-

 

Watching Q give birth had been one of the most extraordinary experiences of Bond’s life.

He knew death; he’d _seen_ it. Death, he was deeply intimate with.

But life? That was a whole other story.

Saving lives, yes, he knew something of that. But creating life? A whole, brand new life… something they’d made, together…

It felt pretty bloody brilliant.

Even now, as Q lay resting for the past half hour, James could barely keep his eyes and hands off the man.

Well, that was in between being unable to keep eyes and hands off his daughter.

Christ, he’d never expected this. And it seemed so right and yet bizarre that this tiny, fragile creature felt comfortable and looked content whilst sleeping in his arms, curled up against his chest. Her new, perfect pink skin was softer even than Q’s, those tiny fingers sometimes curled absently around his own and made his heart stutter.

It was more than a little terrifying, just how deeply he’d fallen for the pup already.

James sat on the side of the bed, refusing to put his pup down, and kept the other hand on Q. The omega had unconsciously curled towards him and James couldn’t keep from maintaining his protective stance over both mate and pup.

Q was bloody exhausted. Though his face was peaceful there were tired lines around his eyes. John and Mary had eased him free from the frightening restraint of the stirrups and gentled his no doubt aching body into a propped and comfy position. Sheets had been changed from beneath the still-slumbering omega and their home nest-things installed instead. Pillows were propping up Q’s knees slightly and helping to frame his spine. James had been informed that he was to encourage Q to sleep on his belly when possible to help his hips recover with less weight.

As it was Q wouldn’t be up to proper walking for three days to a week. And even with the rapid omega recovery for dislocated hips, he wouldn’t be moving with much confidence for a while.

Stumped, and torn between fret and determination to protect, James looked between his two helpless seeming loved ones. Their little girl couldn’t even hold up her own head, and instinct dictated that he carry Q around rather than let the man move.

Maybe Q could carry their pup and James could carry Q? That seemed the best solution, even if the omega would never allow it. The agent might just have to anyway, regardless. His protective drives were far too high and bone deep.

Turning his attention back to their pup, his child, James felt the new, strange but welcome bubbling of excited pride and deep affection well up again. Looking at the baby beta for any protracted period of time seemed to bring this on.

James was happily getting drunk off it. Obsessively drinking in the sight and smell and feel of their pup in his arms.

She had an amusing lack of hair; some short, fine and sparse sprouts of fair hair had started to stick up with wanton gusto at increasingly impressive angles. It reminded James so much of Q’s rumpled and mad-scientist look in the mornings that he grinned.

Her nose was the same shape as Q’s, but… she had her father’s mouth and, hopefully, dimples. James’ had morphed somewhat into age lines in the last few years, but Q would sometimes trace his cheeks when the alpha laughed and smile like the world was brighter.

It made James shift a little to think of, but the warm, expanding feeling in his chest grew none the less.

“I wonder if you’ll be curious?” He murmured out loud, no one to hear him but himself. Still his even quiet voice sounded surprising in the quiet. “We both are, certainly, so there’s something… Together we could all go on great adventures. You’re Mum might take a bit of coaxing, but if you’re game I’m sure we could manage it.” James grinned a bit as he slightly bounced their pint-sized pup, imagined her soaring far and wide, the three of them flying –well, not _flying_ \- off together. Like a real pack, travelling together.

“Get out and see this wonderful world.” James added, contemplating the idea slightly as if his daughter’s silent witness bore conference-like intentions. “It is a wonderful world you know, in places. You’re mother hasn’t seen nearly enough of it. Your world too now, your wonderland. Alice in Wonderland…” There was no movement from their babe whatsoever, and yet…

There was a settling foundation-like certainty the longer he stared down at the pup after saying the innocent name.

 _Damn_. James cursed himself, but he was grinning all the same as he bent to sniff and nose at his pup’s neck and cheek, earning a little, frighteningly young sounding coo. His other hand buried in Q’s hair, curling around the strands securingly.

“Your mother will kill me, I’ve only gone and named you.” _Well, I think I have. Maybe it was a fluke._

After a few minutes of speaking every girl’s name he could think of aloud to the tiny pup in his arms, James was starting to really hope that Q liked the name Alice.

 

-00Q00-

 

There was an odd sound tugging at Q’s ears, some sort of biological imperative forcing him to wake. Cracking open heavy eyes Q could see James’ shape in the drizzly daylight beside him, bare chested. Against him was the small form of their daughter. Q sat up instantly and nearly crashed back down again when his hips protested violently to the movement. His movement and yelp caught James’ absorbed attention and he quickly came over to help, cradling their pup close.

Her little snuffling and wuffling noises had Q’s rapt attention much more than his own discomfort.

“You alright?” Q nodded rapidly, raising his arms a little in plea.

“How is she?” James smiled and handed her over carefully, sliding next to Q on the tiny bed.

“She’s fine, better than fine. Perfect. Aren’t you Alice-“ James cut himself off looking stunned at himself. Q’s eyes flicked up from where he had been watching their pup’s large, fascinatingly grey-blue eyes blinking.

“What did you say?”

“Nothing.” There was an awkward pause for a moment.

“You did, you just called our baby Alice. Is there something you want to tell me?” Q asked, cheekily, shocked really. James _blushed_ a little and scratched the back of his neck, offering a sheepish smile.

“It just… came to me. We never did pick a name.” Q watched his favourite blue eyes for a few moments, contemplating, running the name though his head.

“Alice… Alice, Alice. Alice Bond…” James sat bolt upright at that. Although mated pairs didn’t need to take on each other’s names, most did. Given that Q went by no surname, it had never really been an issue before now. He was pretty sure that he wanted their pup to be a Bond though… or maybe a Bond-Holmes. Would that be considered a break in national security?

Whatever Q was thinking, James was clearly entirely thrilled hearing the name.

“Its not bad I suppose.” Q finally decided, a little put out though. He liked the name, honestly, but he’d imagined having a greater part in it. He was the one who had carried and pushed after all.

“Do you like it?” Bless James, the alpha’s voice betrayed every inch of his eagerness.

“I do… bit I wanted to have a go naming her too.” Unreasonably tears prickled at Q’s eyes. Bloody emotions and hormones.

“You can, it’s not final. And besides, Alice could always be her middle name.”

But the problem was hearing it from James’ lips had sold it for Q. A thought occurred to him however.

“Can I pick the middle name then? I like Alice, it suits her, but then I pick the middle one?” James’ grin was spreading, even if it looked a bit trepidatious at the corners.

“Anything you want.” Q smirked in satisfaction. There had been one name playing around in the back of his mind for a while.

“Hermione.” Q looked over, thoroughly expecting James’ non-plussed face but struggling not to laugh at it none the less.

“Are you naming our daughter after a book character?” Q chuckled a bit.

“No, I like the name. It means travel, you know.” James seemed to digest that information with a bit of interest ending in satisfaction.

“Alright then, we have a name.” Q turned down to their baby and nuzzled her soft, small cheek. Soon the sensation absorbed him, along with her scent, and the feeling of small fingers curling under his chin. Her gentle, satisfied whuffling noises seemed to go straight to his heart. James’ arms wrapped around Q and for a moment they sat in quiet harmony together.

A bit of restless and weak tossing caught their attention again; pup was shifting, mouth opening in small whimpering sounds.

“Hungry?” James asked of their baby girl. Q raised eyebrows contemplatively, heart racing a little. This was their first solo test; there were no midwives this time.

Together they shared a glance and Q positioned Blasty, Alice, with James’ support close to his chest. Milk was apparently on the menu, because the little girl latched on with a greedy little noise and begun suckling away hard. Q shivered a bit at the sensation. Beside him the omega could feel James’ chest puffing in something like pride. Arms slid around him further and the scent of alpha pheromones seemed to thicken in the air.

Evidently the sight of mate feeding pup was too much to go without feeling over protective. For his part, Q just let himself settle into the safe scent from James and the contented warmth from his pup. Leaning over he nuzzled up under James’ chin and the man swiftly turned his attentions to responding to the action thoroughly.

By the time both their scents were mingled thoroughly enough for the both of them the pair had to take a moment to swap their baby beta over to the other nipple for more milk. Q, feeling a bit wonderful and a bit shaky about the whole thing, only hoped he could continue to produce enough.

 

-00Q00-

 

John and Mary reappeared mid-morning to check on the three of them, Q went through a little examination and was swiftly subjected to some movement tests that hurt.

“Alright, its alright.” John soothed as he eased Q’s leg back to flat on the bed. The act of bending the omega’s knee back to his chest had hurt like hell and Q had been unable to do anything to hold back his shout of pain. He was fine not doing anything, lying still was fine, but any pain, even a slight bit, just seemed too much on top of what he’d just been through and left him shaking, trembling.

“You’re doing fine Q, this is normal.” James had moved closer, Alice – _Alice_ \- in his arms and a heavy frown on his face. Q blinked tears from his eyes and heard their pup start whimpering again.

Mary smiled over at the young thing.

“Someone sounds hungry.”

“Already?” James asked, frowning deeper. It was just twenty minutes since she’d last fed for twenty minutes.

Q felt a little lost and overwhelmed as Mary eased their pup out of James’ arms and positioned her back onto the omega’s chest. Lo and behold, latch on she did as though aiming for a target. Q held her and stroked her face and generally felt shaky. This was a lot of drinking. If this was the norm then it meant his body had just twenty minutes to replenish its milk supplies.

That sounded like a lot, was that a lot?

Praying that neither John nor Mary would notice his worried and overwhelmed tears, or his shaking arms, Q ducked his head down to look at Alice. James noticed, of course, and came over to put one hand on the back of Q’s neck and one on their suckling pup’s head. It helped ground Q somewhat. The steadying presence.

And of course, Q knew that he wouldn’t be able to give Alice every meal she needed, that’s why they’d got boxes of supplementary formula in the house. But his… was it pride? Instinct? Told him to produce enough, more.

“Alright?” James breathed out quietly, thumb stroking Q’s neck and Alice’s head, seemed to be pressing them closer together. Q managed to nod a bit, fracturedly.

It was fine, and their little pup was drinking and getting what she needed. But they did have to swap her over sooner than before when frustrated little tears formed in eyes because she wasn’t getting enough milk. James helped with the transfer as Mary looked on and nodded at their slightly fumbling technique. Alice’s little hands curled more contentedly around this fuller breast. Q’s other nipple felt cool in comparison and he took a moment to wipe tears away from his watering eyes, sniffing. This whole thing was just too riled with hormones. He wanted to be at home.

A touch to his currently free pectoral drew the omega’s attention. Both midwives were filling in charts and chatting as Q saw James’ hand coming to cup his chest. Glancing up showed there was a strange, focused and deep look in the alpha’s eyes. 

“James?” Q whispered, concerned that something was wrong, until his mate’s thumb found his nipple. There was a small trickle of milk leaking down that the calloused pad caught up, skimming over sensitive areola and nub as it scooped up the trail. Q watched, utterly mesmerised and with his heart thumping in his throat and…lower at the filthy yet erotic seeming display as James brought his thumb to his mouth. With both their eyes locked onto the digit James brought his thumb up to open lips and seemed to both tongue and kiss the trickle of milk into his mouth. Which, of course, is when the alpha’s suddenly smouldering gaze switched to his electrocuted mate. A hearty shudder shot down Q’s tingling spine at the master of temptation and distraction and seduction hitting him with that lustful gaze over something his body was producing to help feed their pup.

Everything below Q’s waist performed exactly as it normally would when hit with such heat from his gorgeous man, clenching, bucking a little in desire, except that his spent entrance simply couldn’t produce any slick, exhausted and traumatised from birth as he was.

James, the bastard, simply leaned forwards, whilst their innocent pup was suckling at the teat, and whispered against Q’s parted and slightly panting lips.

“The moment you’re recovered, I’m going to fuck you until you see stars,”

“Oh Jesus fuck-“

“Or slow, for hours,” James’ hand ran up his tingling neck, other hand still holding mate and pup together tenderly. “Till the only thing you can do in moan my name and leak everywhere.” Q gasped in a little breath, whole body tingling with want and the insurmountable knowledge that he just _couldn’t_ , not yet, he simply couldn’t… but god how he _wanted_. He didn’t even know where James meant him to be leaking from but the incredibly messy and sordid image that shot his mind was rather vivid.

James’ pheromones were coating the air regardless and it was heady and delicious and Q lost himself in it for a moment, whimpering.

“Ahem. Uh, possibly not the time or place, chaps.” John pointed out at he and Mary became aware of the alpha’s rising libido and Q’s increasingly limp limbed supplication, both flushing a bit. James’ grin was positively lethal, having succeeded in his task of distracting Q thoroughly and never one to pass up being turned on.

“Apologies.” James said, Q could only try to regain his breath a little bit, -was James trying to give him a heart attack?- and cling onto their merrily suckling pup like a lifeline.

“Well, looks like you’re getting the knack of feeding anyway, Mary came over to check the hold Alice had on Q and nodded in satisfaction of it.

“Good. You might find yourself exhausted with all the feeding you have to do. Omega males do get it rather rough. Try to give yourself a few hours a day where you don’t breastfeed at all, try and get her used to a bottle and formula for that time. And get daddy helping.” She cast an amused look over at James, who looked nothing short of determined and thrilled at the responsibility. “That way you can have a bit longer to replenish supplies, and you’ll need the rest.”

Mary walked them through making up formula and how they might go about transferring Alice onto a bottle for some feeds if she was stubborn, helped them burp her and made sure they could fit a diaper. Q was glad to see at least that he had no issues with that… James found it a little more confusing. Which was endearing as well as amusing. Finally they were given a run through, and in James’ case hands on demonstration, on how to bath Alice after their little one decided to spit up a bit over Q’s stomach.

The omega couldn’t help feeling pangs and some jealousy whenever Alice was taken to the other side of the room for a demonstration where he couldn’t follow.

He didn’t even realise he was whining low in his throat half way through their pup being swaddled until James’ gaze shot to his. Mary jumped when James scooped up their baby as if he’d been doing it for years and strode over to deposit her back into Q’s outstretched arms. The alpha looked a bit surprised at himself too, for a moment. John chuckled in the background.

“Now that you two are more settled, instincts kicking in, pup fed. There’s four people who are not-so patiently waiting to see you three. Think you’re up for visitors?

Both of the pair blinked a little sheepishly, amongst the excitement, they’d both forgotten that there was pack outside that refused to wait at home for the call to come in.

James checked briefly with Q before he nodded to John, and then hurriedly started slipping a shirt robe on Q and fixing up the sheets, ensuring his omega was covered from anyone else’s eyes.

 

-00Q00-

 

“Gently does it, maybe not everyone at once around the baby, okay?” Q could hear beyond the door as if John was trying to tame some sort of rabble.

“I’ll stay back, I’m sure that poor man’s going to have enough to deal with with you three in there.” Mrs. Hudson chortled.

“Can’t believe you saw my niecelet before I did.” Sherlock grumped as John opened the door. 

The detective burst through the opening door with more balloons than sense, each sporting a different message and held onto like a lifeline. 

“Let me see, can I see-“ It was probably the rush to the bed that made it happen, but before Q could react James had lunged round the bed and formed a growling wall.

“Ah, maybe a bit too soon then.” John murmured in the back.

“James,” Q called from the bed, quietly. That, in combination of Alec putting hands on both Sherlock and James’ shoulders and stepping between them, seemed to calm the situation down.

“Easy James.” Alec offered, calm, serious. James continued to grumble, but went back to Q’s side, curling arms around both omega and baby. John was busily snapping pictures in the background while simultaneously snapping at Sherlock. The tension in the room hadn’t entirely dissipated however, and at the scrunching of Alice’s tiny face and uneasy mewling sound, Q brought her closer and cupped James’ face to meet the man’s eyes. Blue looked into green deeply.

“Please,” Q took a breath and swallowed. “Please don’t let her learn to be afraid this early… not of this.” His own voice was quiet, and slightly husky with the threat of tears. _Again, for Christ’s sake_. Q mentally berated himself. But he couldn’t help feeling shakily serious about this point.

He’d learnt to be afraid too young, James too, even if not by as much. Not for their pup though. Never for their daughter.

James’ eyes widened a bit in realisation and surprise, cleared a bit. The man took a deep breath and nosed into Q’s neck fiercely for a second.

“Good call, quartermaster.” He agreed. Q kissed him before the man stood up, looking almost a bit sheepish. Sherlock was vibrating with tension, Mycroft deadly still and Alec loose-limbed and ready to leap into action. James cleared his throat a bit.

“One at a time?” He suggested with a half grin. “And slowly.” He added on sharply when Sherlock went to dart forwards with his whirlwind energy.

Surprisingly, the beta complied, and slipped close to the bed, staring. The balloons floated away from his hand.

“She’s tiny.” Q snorted a bit, keen to keep his voice light in case something set James off, who was standing on a hair-trigger as it was. To be honest, Q was prepared to bite anyone who moved towards his pup too quickly, but that was about all he could do. And after everyone had managed so well for the last few months he really didn’t want things to end in bloodshed.

“And thank Christ for that.” Q commented.

“How much does she weigh?” Mycroft asked from the back of the room, peering over. Voice curious and soft. Alec had approached the foot of the bed, eyes on James for, probably the safety of everyone in this room. If the alpha did erupt, Alec was the only one who stood a chance at stopping him, and even then barely, given what the man would be defending.

 _Do not anger the mama bear_ sprang to Q’s mind. The Russian alpha’s hand, however, was resting next to Q’s foot in indication of his desire to be closer.

“Seven pounds one ounce.” Q replied instantly, the numbers rolling off his tongue. Alec whistled, for no good reason, given that the weight was hardly gignormous. Still, it made James cock his head proudly and preen, and Q flushed a bit at the praise. Silly things, hormones. But the tension in the room dropped considerably.

Sherlock started sniffing, and then inhaled sharply.

“She’s…” He ducked his head closer, but impressively resisted the urge to touch the pup without permission.

“Go ahead,” Q allowed, eyes on James’ carefully as the alpha nodded his acquiescence.

Sherlock _slowly_ ducked his head, John clicking away with the camera, and took a deep inhale of the tiny lady’s neck. Alice wrinkled her nose and sneezed after being tickled by Sherlock’s demented hair, but the detective drew back grinning.

“She’s a _beta_.” He said; voice laced with satisfaction and grin steeling over his face.

“What?” Mycroft choked from the background, stunned sideways by the revelation.

“John! Do you know what this means?” Sherlock dashed back to the doctor’s side and started tugging at him and rambling on about footsteps and influences as the shorter beta batted him off.

Alec seemed to take this as his cue to move up beside James and Q. The alpha took a moment to grab James into a heartily reciprocated hug before turning to the bed.

“Lets have a look at this little lady then. Hey look! She’s got your hands Q.” Q wondered how on earth Alec could tell by the small, curling fingers that appeared above Alice’s swaddled cocoon.

“Hey pup,” Alec reached out one giant seeming hand and traced fingers down the soft cheek.

“Do you want to hold her?” James asked, coming forwards to put a supportive hand on Q’s shoulder.

“Hell yes!” Alec grinned. Q felt a bit of unease at the transfer, but Alec took and cradled the small bundle in his arms like it was a new assault rifle…

Well, hopefully a bit gentler than he would handle an assault rifle, given the man’s propensity for breaking things. The wave of unease crested as Alec walked the baby over for a beckoned picture by John and jiggled her a bit, patting the clothed pup gently.

“Who’s a good pup pup Rumbles?” Alec asked jovially, James stalking behind him by about a millimetre, eyes very, very sharp.

“Hello Aster.” Q blinked a bit in surprise and turned, drawing his eyes away from their baby and to Mycroft’s face. Mycroft who had come to see _him_ instead.

“Hello.” There was a moment where the alpha didn’t seem to know what to do, then a hand reached his shoulder and barely a second later the man was curved around Q and griping him tightly, nuzzling his cheek and hair gently as the omega clung back.

“I’m so proud of you, my little Star.”

Q was absolutely not going to cry… except he was, apparently, and with a small whine no less. It took him a moment to realise that Mycroft was no better, the dampness on Q’s cheek not solely his own.

“So very proud.” Q clung on for a few moments longer, letting himself bask in something indescribable, before drawing back with a smile and a sniff.

“Thank you.” Mycroft whipped away his own show of emotion perfunctorily, and then switched back to normal.

“Now, how are you? Did your hips re-settle soundly? The man of course had to feel for himself, also taking a moment to check Q’s pulse and look at his eyes before being shaken off.

“I’m fine, they took care of me.”

“And the pup?” Mycroft asked sharply, eyes alight with something like worry.

“See for yourself.” Alec interrupted, moving back over with their wide-eyed and confused looking pup. Alec was beaming, hands so gentle around the tiny form in his arms that it took Q by surprise.

Mycroft, surprisingly, didn’t fumble in the slightest at the hand over. Q supposed, for the first time, that he’d done it all before. Once the pup was in his arms though, the alpha fell mesmerised and silent. Alec moved over to clap James on the back, both grinning.

“Name?” Mycroft finally asked, voice high and vague.

“Alice Hermione Bond.” Q replied. Mycroft didn’t speak at all after that.

Sherlock, however, when he came to hold the baby –James watching with rising tension at how long the pup had been out of their arms- came over all silly.

“Hello Alice.” The young thing yawned wide and Sherlock, strangely, copied her. Both grown and baby betas blinked at each other for a moment.

“Cooo.” Sherlock said, in all seriousness, and Alice blinked rapidly, wrinkling her little nose.

“Don’t tease her Sherlock, just be gentle she’s a baby.” John reprimanded, hovering mother hen like.

“Don’t be ridiculous John she likes it, look. _Coooooo_.” The detective repeated, leaning closer and swiftly finding his hair captured in a pup-grip and sucked on. John sputtered indignantly and made accusations about contaminating and weird, Sherlock didn’t seem to care in the slightest.

“Look at us John, see, already we’re bonding.”

James took John’s camera off the table to snap a picture of pup and uncle’s first meeting. The others had been caught as well.

Q, disbelieving, simply dissolved into giggles as Alec quietly rescued his honorary niecelet from Sherlock as he squabbled with John. The alpha proceeded to nuzzle Alice heartily, who again bent her head back and cooed a little in satisfaction.

James soon snatched her back, gently, and brought the pup back to Q. The sound weight in his arms was comforting, and he took a moment to lean in and nuzzle his daughter softly, relishing in her scent whilst Mrs. Hudson was brought in for a visit.

The elderly omega oohed and ahhed and jiggled Alice whilst dabbing at her chubby face with a finger tip gently. John took another turn holding her, saying ‘hi’ repeatedly and pulling funny faces.

James kept taking moments to interrupt and bring Alice back to Q. Which proved handy when she decided it was time to nurse again.

“Uhm,”

“We’re leaving, Star.” Mycroft soothed, quieting Q’s awkward hesitation. Alice, however, was getting huffy and damp-eyed so the omega had to shove down his embarrassment and flushing cheeks in order to fuss with his shirt till Alice had access.

“No, I have to see this!” Sherlock was beside him in an instant, eyes wide and fascinated and staring rather rudely at Alice latching onto Q’s chest.

James’ warning growl and straightening to move over was halted when Alice, hand resting upon Q’s exposed nipple proprietarily, rumbled a weak and adorable what could only-be grumble cry at the large eyes looking over at her, managing to sound both helpless and offended.

There was silence for a moment, until Alec snorted and burst out laughing.

“She’s got your sass already James!”

“I resent that.” James replied, without ire and wearing a grin, turning briefly to Alec. His blue gaze however held nothing but pride as they looked at the young pup.

“Or maybe she’s just learnt Q’s negotiating skills.” The alpha continued to chuckle. Mycroft was looking speechlessly appraising whilst Mrs. Hudson cooed and John snapped another photo.

Sherlock leant back, stunned, and Alice turned to latch back onto her mother’s chest greedily.

“Well played, mouse.” Sherlock admitted, grudgingly. “I’ll just steal your mother then.” He turned instead to nuzzle demandingly into Q, who returned the affection willingly, chocking down hiccups of laughter.

Alice didn’t seem to care in the slightest, everything back in order the way babies liked.

 

-00Q00-

 

James could tell with just one look at Q that he was uncomfortable.

To be honest, they were both struggling a little.

Alice had been taken from them.

Well, maybe ‘taken’ was too strong a word, but that was how James’ inner alpha felt.

It wasn’t right, even though the nursing staff had just taken her so that they could get ready to go home and have a moment’s breather, he didn’t like his pup being away from her pack.

He’d left Alec on watch duty. The man had accepted his task with nothing short of patriotic severity.

Q was starting to whine a little under his breath by the time James got back from following the convoy of Mary, Alice and Alec to the baby ICU centre, where he’d made sure to scent the pup and nuzzle her till there could be absolutely no mistake of who was his little girl. Or whose she was.

There would _not_ be a mix up.

Q would cry, and James would never forgive himself. And they’d both murder the hospital staff.

All the other pups in the room looked similarly woozy with all the scent marking their own parents had put upon them and were blinking in a collective daze. Alice blended right in, which was also good for camouflage.

James was by his mate’s restless side in a moment back in their room.

“You alright?” His hands found Q’s chest and squeezed his rib cage gently, unable to stop touching the omega, as he helped Q sit a bit.

“I want to get out of this bed. And Christ I need to piss.” James smirked a bit, and then found himself the source of Q’s distraction when the man forgot his troubles and begun nuzzling into his neck in a rather helpless fashion and going a bit limp.

It was obvious that Q was still utterly exhausted, and any source of comfort right now was bringing him closer to sleep. It didn’t help that the doctor’s had given him a mild pain relief dose to help with getting home.

Beneath Q James could smell a little blood on the bed, which would have been worrying if he hadn’t been warned by John that the omega was likely to bleed for a while whilst he recovered.

“Come on. A bath, that’s what you need.”

James was knackered too, but holding it off better than his put through the ringer mate. Mostly, he just needed Q to not smell like hospitals any more. And then get their pup back into the man’s arms and get them both back home where they should be till their scents were right and properly mingled with the house.

“Yes, thank god.” Q agreed, and reached to cling onto James’ shoulders as the man shifted him to his chest and held him close. Getting Q out of the bed involved a bit of wincing and whining until the omega was in his arms, considerably lighter than he had been for months, even if he was still sporting quite a belly. He still looked quite pregnant, granted by a few less months. That, at least, had to be more comfortable for the omega.

Of course, Q couldn’t walk yet, and clearly even sitting in the bath whilst it filled was uncomfortable until the water took some weight off.

James slowly rubbed a wet, soapy flannel over Q as the omega relaxed and they both enjoyed a moment of silence.

Wordlessly Q reached to take James’ free hand and held it to his mouth, kissing the skin on his knuckles gently and repetitively for a long while.

The alpha brought his spare hand up to card through Q’s tousled and still sweaty hair, both content in the moment together.

“…This bathroom smells unpleasant.” James had to agree.

“We’ll get you in another one at home.”

“It’s not that bad.”

“I don’t want hospital in the bed.”

“Says the man who once came home bleeding.”

“Just the once?” Q swatted him gently.

“Once was enough.” Came the soft reply.

“For this too.” James added solemnly, swishing his hand through the water to stroke Q’s knee. But looking at the belly still swollen on Q, he couldn’t help but wonder if one was enough…

-00Q00-

 

A merciful day after being in the hospital the family Bond was released back into their home range.

It was possibly one of the most frightening experiences of James’ life.

Q had to be helped into a heavily padded wheelchair, surrounded –thanks to his alpha- by their nesting bedding. In the omega’s arms resided Alice, who was taking the opportunity to sleep and look utterly defenceless.

It wasn’t helping James’ nerves.

He managed to get Alice strapped into her pup car seat soundly and securely, although even that didn’t seem safe enough, Q’s focused and falcon-like eyes watching his every movement did not help.

The agent then got Q situated and thoroughly wrapped up in padding, lying across the majority of the back seat so that one of them could keep a hand on their baby at all times. The omega’s hand went right to their pup’s warm belly and stayed there. She was clad in the super-soft sleep suit that Sherlock and John had brought, and looked incredibly calm and cosy.

Having completed his mission, the alpha got in the car and drove.

“What are you doing?” Q asked sharply in confusion ten minutes later as James’ sweated and cursed internally.

“The speed limit.” He gritted back, on edge, wondering just why everyone was driving like a bloody lunatic and itching to press the horn. But that might wake the pup, or startle Q into sneezing… or startle them both into sneezing-

“It’s unnerving…” Q commented, sounding distinctly worried for their situation and James’ sanity. The alpha was too busy slowing down for traffic lights that were still green –they might change! Mentalists shot through those things all the time too, he would know- to decide which.

“…Go slower.” Q commanded eventually. And James Bond, reckless driver extraordinaire and connoisseur of sports cars, slowed down to twenty-five miles per hour. There was an audible chorus of ‘oh come on!’s and honking around them, to which James simply casually rolled down the window and stuck his middle finger out.

Alice gurgled a bit and squirmed.

“Don’t you worry little one, Daddy’s just doing what he does best. Infuriate the general public for a higher cause.

James found himself inaudibly pleased with both the words and casual, happy and fond tone from Q, and continued driving slowly with a smirk on his face. Londoners needed to slow down anyway… And that cyclist ought to give him more room. The jarring colours on his jacket might wake the baby… or cause Q to startle and hurt himself with a sneeze… or cause them _both_ to startle and sneeze…

It was a long drive home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A HUGE thank you to all the kudosing and amazing comments from last chapter (any un-replied will be replied to v.shortly -but I may have to sleep a little first, apologies!) I've not had such a mingled quantity and quality of reviews for, well, probably since this story's first chapter! So thank you, in every way for taking the time to read, and I'm glad you've all enjoyed thus far!  
> Just a couple chapters left now, assuming all goes to plan (scary thought!)  
> I didn't quite manage to get them home this chapter... I seem to have a habit for writing long hospital chapters... O.o  
> Regardless, hope you enjoyed and thanks for reading, have a great weekend you guys!  
> See ya next time :3
> 
> (P.S. Omg nearly 50 chapters!! *so excited*)


	50. H0: Home safe and dry; H1: A few minor difficulties.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On time and slightly surprised by that O.o Didn't think I'd make it!  
> Hope you all enjoy, you wonderful creatures. :)

Driving home turned out to be one of a myriad of nerve-wracking occurrences for James Bond that first day.

Getting Q back into the house that they had foolishly purchased with stairs going up to the door, was a challenge.

“We can’t leave Alice in the car.”

“Can we leave he in the house?” the mated pair looked at each other, frowning in debate.

“I could… crawl in-“

“No, you can’t.” James swiftly aborted that madness. Even for someone with as wild a background as Bond, the idea of the neighbours faces at watching a just popped omega being made to drag himself into his own house was just one step too far. Not to mention he’d never do that to his mate. “Do you think you could carry her whilst I carry you?” Q huffed, baffled by the complexities of simply _getting inside_ … James was feeling much the same.

“Probably, would you feel stable though?” Knowing the severity of any mistakes, James gave the matter great thought.

“Maybe we shouldn’t, up the stairs.”

“Mm.” Q nodded. “I think; you should just take her inside quickly, set her down safely and then come back for me. Shouldn’t take long. She’ll be fine for half a minute.”

Yes, she should be. If this were a mission, that was what James would do. Or a fire, should he start making a new Fire Plan? It used to be just grab Q and get out…

The alpha was assaulted with the image of Q sprinting away from him and leaping into flames to save their pup. He’d definitely have to re-write it. Alphas may be constantly protective, but the defence of a mother for pup was legendary. He’d have to take Q’s new priorities into account.

Shaking his head a bit James gave himself a moment to focus. He was used to risking life and limb, and he was damn good at his job, just treat it like a mission when these decisions needed to happen. Get the most vulnerable person to safety: Alice.

“Right. We need to relax, love. I’ll take her in, won’t be a moment.” With a grin and a kiss to Q, who calmed himself, James rounded the car and carried Alice in.

She didn’t wake once of course, and James could settle her in a nest-cradle seat by the sofa before jogging back out for Q. The omega had managed to push himself into sitting up but wasn’t looking too good for it.

“Here we go, easy does it.” Q submitted himself to James’ slight coddling, which was really more of an indication than anything that he was sore and tired, and clung to his mate’s neck. James cradled the man close as he had Alice and deposited Q on the couch within arms-reach of the baby.

After that he fetched Q a glass of water and went back for their stuff.

“Do you want to lie down?” James asked carefully. He didn’t want to bruise Q’s pride by suggesting he was frail, but the doctors had ordered bed rest and gentle physiotherapy stretches only for two days.

“I suppose.” Q sighed, face falling. “I’m so damn sick of lying in beds.” James smirked, the mood entering familiar territory.

“I’m sure I could change your mind.” Q raised an eyebrow.

That was how the three of them, Alice situated in her bassinet, ended up upstairs. Q was stretched out on his still protruding belly as much as possible, as James knelt and gave him a massage.

Nothing more, of course.

Especially when Alice started crying, and a scent filled the room that was less than pleasant.

“Oh.” Q stated, brought out of his reverie to look over at their squalling baby with worried surprise. “Uh, could you…?” James blinked for a moment.

“Of course.” Of course, with Q effectively down and out of action, James had to step up. Q couldn’t very well change Alice’s diaper himself when he couldn’t walk to where they kept them.

The reality of responsibility started to sink in. James was man enough to admit that, at least, in his mind the spread of duties had been more 60-40 or even 70-30 whilst he was at work during the day for instance. He hadn’t thought to consider Q’s state post-hospital. The realisation didn’t leave him feeling particularly proud of himself.

For the first time in this pregnancy, James felt a shred of doubt that he could care for this minute creature.

Moving over to scoop Alice up and take her into the bathroom, James took a breath and manned up. He could do this. And more to the point he wanted to.

Even with all the determination in the world, it took about half an hour for him to get Alice out of her all-in-one, diaper, clean (and why had they arranged the equipment in such ridiculously inaccessible places? Maybe it had seemed a good idea at the time…) re-clad in diaper and re-clothed.

But then she was still crying, and flailing those tiny little not-chubby-yet arms and legs in slow unhappiness.

Food, she needed food. Possibly? Hopefully.

“I think someone’s hungry.” James murmured as he brought their crying and wet-faced pup back into the room. Q was looking over only a little frantically, clearly struggling with being confined to the bed and unable to go to his daughter.

“Oh no, are you, poor thing.” Q soothed as he rolled over awkwardly and pulled his top open to give Alice access. “Come on my little Hermione, there now, not too difficult.” Alice took a moment of befuddled movements to coordinate her crying face before Q angled her a bit better.

It wasn’t a sight James would ever get tired of.

However, as the day progressed, with much lying around and chatting, staring at their pup, James couldn’t help but feel that Q was being used a bit as a, well…

The words milk-tank and vending machine sprang to mind.

Whilst it looked beautiful to James, every half hour or so he was simply brining Alice to his mate to nurse off his increasingly tired mate. Q didn’t complain, and Alice certainly didn’t, but it wasn’t as if the omega could move away or do anything else.

The rather nasty thought occurred to James that he could see only too easily how it was that omega’s became persecuted as the weaker sex. Especially the males, they simply had to lie there. It must have been only too easy for those cave-alphas to… _keep_ their omegas like this. He could even see how easy, sick though it made him, those vile ancient breeding methods were, where omegas were simply kept with their hips permanently broken and ready for breeding…

_God, thank Christ you’re not an omega._ James thought, stroking Alice on the tiny toes.

By the evening though, when Q’s milk ran out with an unsatisfied Alice and exhausted mother, James readily stepped up to the plate.

His Q would never be made to feel like those poor souls were. Not with James around.

“You’re wonderful.” James praised, insisted, leaning over to kiss Q’s distressed cheek. He hated seeing Q feel like a failure for temporarily running out of milk. He was doing brilliantly.

Unlike James when it came to fixing a bottle of formula with a bawling baby next to him in the kitchen. And when it came to getting the pup accepting something other than mother’s breast.

James attempted taking his own shirt off, skin-to-skin contact encouraging the babe to suckle a bit whilst Q looked on adoringly.

“Christ I don’t know how you do this.” James wondered, fighting with trying to keep the bottle in a not-so happy pup’s mouth. Alice scrunched up her face and turned away, looking around tearfully before resigning to another few gulps and turning away again. Q just grinned at him, looking much more cheerful for the knowledge that at least he was blatantly Alice’s preferred source of milk.

_Q always makes the best_. James thought, hiding a laugh by looking down at their pup.

“I haven’t done that!” Q reminded him with a bit of a laugh. “You’re doing much better than me in that department.” This was true, and made James feel a bit better.

Still, Q fell into sleep and James let him remain undisturbed for a few hours. Which meant that he and Alice became familiar with the bottle.

Alice’s disdain for it was clear in her lack-lustre performance compared to the greedy suckling she performed with Q.

“Come on pup, got to give Mummy a break…” James could go for a break too, but Q couldn’t get up to get Alice, so he would stay awake.

“Look I don’t like it either, much rather you were taking Q’s.” Whether it was the pep talk or the hunger, Alice tried a bit harder at least.

After four hours of on and off nursing with the bottle Q sent James a text from upstairs.

_-Is Alice hungry? I’m awake.-_

James came back upstairs to find Q uncomfortably rubbing his chest lightly. He couldn’t help but grin at the swollen look to the body he knew so well.

“Hello,” James began charmingly. Q offered an amused by less-than impressed look.

“Is she hungry?” Given the sniffling and air scenting the young beta was doing, turning a weak head towards Q and cooing increasingly, James could interpret the answer.

“I think that’s a yes.”

“Thank god.” Q reached for her and James passed over their babe happily, moving to sit curled around Q as he did.

They remained that way for a while until an unexpected and wholly welcome food delivery from Mycroft came. James insisted on feeding it to Q whilst Alice had another meal.

Their first two days with Alice followed much the same pattern, relaxing James with the predictability. Other than the moment where the pup had decided to spit up on James’ shirt. Q had laughed at him for wearing Armani around a baby anyway. The tables turned later when Alice had an accident on the bed and Q had to be subjected to rolling out of the way as James stripped the bed around him.

Mostly, a sense of exhaustion was creeping into both of them.

Thank god for Mycroft’s food deliveries of already cooked meals. James didn’t think he had the strength. And Q was suffering too from his body adjusting to the constant demand for milk. He was eating like a starved man.

Mostly, the pair just had to take a moment to thank the visitors that started appearing two days after the birth.

By this time Q was just about up and out of bed. Tottering around unsteadily and sometimes in a fair bit of pain with James trailing him like a shadow. Although being able to get out of bed did wonders for Q’s mood, the exhaustion was starting to climb.

Visitors had never been more welcome.

 

-00Q00-

 

Eve came around on Thursday to meet the new Bondlet. Q and James had just about gotten back from taking Alice to her doctor’s appointment. Dr. Darcy had been thrilled to meet the little lady, and been very gentle. The experience was still rather nerve wracking. The pup didn’t seem phased by the proceedings. Other than her constant demands for food she was really not too troubled a baby.

Q had endured another check over, but the results had been good, recovering normally in all areas. James was relieved. Other than sometimes placing warm hands on his aching areas, Q’s mate had been careful in the touching department. At least in the omega’s more… delicate parts.

It was nice to get out of the house, even if Q’s legs were starting to shake out a bit under him by the time they got back. He took Alice to the couch for a feed and at least enjoyed the feeling of improvement.

James fetched them both a warm drink against the chilly weather outside and they settled down together.

“Good news little pup, you’ve survived your first medical appointment.” Q snorted and Alice hiccupped as she detached. James stole her to burp her, flipping a tea towel over his shoulder with practiced two-day ease to mop up spillages. They’d learnt the hard way.

Q forced his legs into a crossed position as per orders for his daily stretches and James rested Alice on his lap, feet poking and kicking at the agent’s stomach.

“Returning the favour are we?” James questioned the infant, who blinked blue eyes up at the man. “They don’t do much at this age do they?” Q laughed and took a sip of tea, closing tired eyes for a moment.

“She’s probably still recovering from the shock of birth. Besides, studies show that until the age of three months babies respond just as much to a chimp’s voice as they do their own mother’s.” James shot a look at him, eyes calculating his casual tone of voice.

“You’re lying.” Q grinned.

“Want to test it?” And lunged forwards for his laptop, saved from a face-first meeting with the floor by James’ quick reflexes only. Q flashed him a brief apologetic grin and fired up his laptop. He hadn’t used it for three or so days. _Oh I’ve missed you baby_. Q crooned in his head, one hand absently drifting over to stroke his pup’s tummy. It was impossible to not touch her. Q had never felt the omega need for closeness so much in is life, as if they were magnetised to each other.

“I bet you four am feeding duty that she responds more to us.” James offered, chuckling a bit. Q grinned over, an almost too-excited joy gripping him at the prospect of more sleep.

“Prepare for the sting of defeat and exhaustion.” Q prattled off gleefully. After all, Alice seemed interested in their energetic voices, and they’d made this baby, might as well have fun with her.

Which was how Eve found them fifteen minutes later, squawking with possibly sleep-deprived laughter and playing chimp sounds, and other animals, to their increasingly befuddled looking pup.

“You two are a danger to yourselves.” The female alpha proclaimed, coming to stand before them with hands on her hips and shaking her head fondly. “Some things never change.”

“Eve,” James grinned, standing up to peck her on the cheek. “Meet Alice Hermione. Pup meet the woman who-“

“Ah ah ah!” Q interrupted. “No fatalist talk in front of the baby!” He didn’t _really_ want his pup growing up to think that those who shot each other could still be great friends and houseguests, there was just no way to aptly explain that to a child. James cocked a smarmy look.

“Until she can understand us over chimps, I’m calling it a moot point.”

“Anyway, I was going to say Eve’s the lovely lady who planned your pup shower.” Q knew a quick save when he saw one, but couldn’t condemn his mate’s suavity. Besides, seeing James happy and jiggling their curiously sniffing pup like it was second nature just made him feel like there was a balloon in his chest.

“Nice to meet you,” Eve purred, and Alice’s gaze shot over, clearly having her hearing attuned for the last few minutes was perking her up. “God you’ve made a cutie. What a gorgeous little thing.”

It was fair to say both men almost beamed in pride.

“May I?” She gestured towards holding the baby. James deposited her over carefully. Eve bounced her a bit, eyes going a lovely shade of soft brown and warming.

“Hello lovely, oh yes, show me those teeth.” Eve encouraged as Alice yawned her obviously toothless mouth wide.

“You look exhausted.” The woman commented of James later as the three of them were sitting down for a lunch of sandwiches. Eve had brought from the collective lunch donations of Q branch. Apparently everyone was very keen she report back and send their well wishes. There was also a giant card from the branch that she had brought along.

The agent rolled his eyes in thanks.

“Charming as ever Moneypenny.” The alpha just chuckled and jigged the sleeping pup in her arms before smiling at Q.

“You look radiant of course.” Q snorted so hard he nearly chocked, James jumping up in worry and Alice stirring a bit. But he calmed with a clearing of the throat.

“Very chivalrous of you, Eve, thank you.” Q replied. He did not look ‘radiant’. It was a miracle he’d even showered this morning, and his hair was more of a birds nest, and he was sporting his remaining baby pounds under a rather unattractive combination of comfy and cosy clothes that had been entirely forgiven at the doctor’s office and were really the only things Q could stand at the moment.

Certainly the only thing his face was radiating was exhaustion. And he certainly didn’t feel handsome, given that his body seemed to be waging a constant war of complaints.

The only blessing was that Alice was drinking so regularly he didn’t leak throughout the day until the tree or so hours that she bottle-fed for. And that was it. That was literally the only thing.

Now that the best thing about pregnancy was out of his body and learning the world, he was left with the sloppy seconds.

Still, “I appreciate the effort however.” He assured her, trying to flatten his hair ineffectively.

“You’re gorgeous love.” James growled. Poor alpha, those hormones and pheromones must really be getting to him if he believed that. Q wasn’t about to begrudge him for it though. Right now, compliments were really going a shamefully long way to improving his sense of self.

Eve was there for an hour watching them go through Alice’s usual routine of feed-sleep-change-sleep-feed. At one point she was taking yet another picture of the little pup when she looked up, startling James just a bit out of his dose on Q’s shoulder. The woman laughed gently.

It took care to slide James down to the sofa and let him continue resting, but they just about managed it. The alpha had been awake for most of the last four days, at least Q had grabbed those four formula hours uninterrupted.

Together with Eve as help though they managed to give James a bit of a kip. At least now he could stand again Q could alternate shifts with James or something. And for today Eve, who was hands on and enthusiastic, could help out when he needed a sit down.

It was quite relaxed and pleasant. Pack like. And seeing Alice get doted on by Eve’s motherly side made Q feel strangely proud.

 

-00Q00-

 

Daniel was their next visitor, coming over with the kids after school for a short visit. Thankfully it was short because love the pups though Q did, they were quite chaotic to control around a newborn. And he didn’t doubt that James would protect Alice from these pups by whatever means necessary if it came to that.

“But you’re still p-pr-pregnant Maurice!” Beth accused with a pointed finger at Q’s middle as he sat on the sofa, Alice on his lap. James was lurking dangerously behind the couch. “There must be more in there!”

“Bethany May don’t point.” Daniel scolded gently, and proceeded to attempt explaining to the avid girl how loosing the baby pounds worked.

Mathew on the other hand, was busy getting almost too close for James’ comfort, leaning over Alice with fascination.

“Oooh baby baby pup, hi baby pup, I’m your new big brother. My sister now.” James’ growls were becoming a bit audible. Q coughed a little pointedly. Mathew evidently thought the sound was for him and looked up with all the seriousness a nine year old could muster.

“Maurice, you’re what they call an amazing man.” Coming from the small child, it was faintly hilarious. “My omega.” Mathew launched himself into a nuzzling hug of Q’s neck, feet slipping on the couch with the scramble to praise ‘his omega’. Q shot an apologetic and placating look over his shoulder at James’ darkening face. Daniel chuckled a bit before coughing.

“Mathew, what have I told you about claiming people?” the pup withdrew petulantly.

“Not to do it.” He chorused miserably.

“Now what do you say to Maurice and his mate?” Mathew didn’t relinquish his hold on Q as he grunted a ‘sorry’ at James. Luckily Stewie interrupted before the moment could become tenser. The young omega was attempting to clamber onto the sofa on the other side of Q and James dived to help the slipping backside make it up all the way. Stewart was looking over the smaller being with wonder.

“Baybeh.” Stewie asked, confirmed, patting Alice on the belly and looking up at Q.

“Yes baby, baby Alice.” Q informed, Stewie scrunched up his face in seeming delight and wriggled before looking back down at the baby.

“Baybeh baybeh.” He cooed, dropping to lie on his stomach and watch with big eyes.

“ _My_ baby Alice-“ James caught Mathew by the scruff and deposited him off the couch in a very final manner, growling a warning to the stunned and offended pup.

“ _Mama_! Mama the nasty man-“

“What did I tell you about claiming Mathew?” Daniel managed after he’d conquered the urge to giggle.

“But Mama-“

“You’re not to claim other people’s pups.”

“But I want her!”

“No.”

There was a not so short lecture and fit of tears on appropriate behaviour. Q gulped a bit at the thought of having to go through all that in a few years, and after things had settled down a bit he handed Alice over to James for a moment and moved to go speak with the sulking alpha pup. James was immediately accosted by Beth of the Many Questions and Stewie plopping himself down right against the man’s side like a radiator.

Mathew was snuffling as Q knelt down to his level with a bit of difficulty, Daniel was keeping an eye whilst also asking James subtly whether he fainted during the birth.

“Mathew,” the pup grunted and swiped at his eyes. “Alice is very young and I’m very new to this. We both are. We love her like you love Stewie, I know you understand that.” Mathew blinked a bit.

“Yes.” Was finally admitted.

“That doesn’t mean I don’t like you though, you’re very important.” Mathew looked up hopefully.

“I am?” It was a little heartbreaking to see the always-confident pup sound so unsure. Everyone had the same fears underneath, it seemed.

“Of course you are, come here.” The pup scrambled into the hug as though his life depended on it. “Just don’t try and claim my pup again, okay?”

“Okay.” Mathew responded, a little miserably, but snuggled into Q’s neck anyway.

“Thank you.” Mathew clung on for a bit until he went to go snuggle up with his Mama, James was looking torn between finding Beth or Daniel’s questions more grating, Stewie simply pooled in a comfortable heap like he belonged everywhere.

Beth perked up further when Q waddled back over to sit next to James, sandwiching Stewie happily between them, the pup gave a happy squirm as though he couldn’t decide who to snuggle against first. Evidently the squishiness of Q’s belly won out.

“Jamesy says Maurice is gonna have five more pups and they’ll all be named after the rest of the Alice in Wonderland characters and I think that the March Hair and Cheshire cat should be girls and that the Mad Hatter should be an alpha boy and that-” Q rather lost the thread after that, looking over, James looked about as dumbfounded as he did. Silently both of their gazes traveled back to their own pup who was blinking up at Stewie’s fingers waving above her.

Just what sort of personality was floating around in their own daughter?

 

-00Q00-

 

By the time Alice was a week old, Q had evidently decided she was old enough for her first nest. Of course, the omega had been arranging their pup into little balls of comfort for a couple of days, but it seemed that now she was ready for a sharing nest rather than a solo one guarded by Q.

“Here please,” Q coordinated, getting James to settle down in the centre of the nest, shirtless, and then settling Alice on his chest for skin contact. The pup slept on, sprawled with her little fingers curling on warm skin. James’ hand came to cup her tiny back, able to cover the small expanse easily.

Really it was still taking some getting used to, the fact that she was just so small. It was terrifying and wonderful all at once. Q settled covers and cushions around them before dragging warm blankets over them cozily against the chill. James freed an arm to wrap around Q as they pressed together, scent warm and comforting in the enclosed space.

“Happy?” James asked, turning to give both thickly haired Q and sparsely haired pup a kiss in turn.

“Mmm very happy… You?” Green eyes looked up at him, one of Q’s hands playing gently with Alice’s on his chest. That ever-expanding feeling in James’ chest was becoming familiar over the last week, but no less staggering.

“In every way, love.” Q smiled and sneaked up enough to kiss him again before settling down.

“Wonder how the office is getting on.”

James grinned at the thought.

“Are you going to bring her in? You know the minions-“

“Colleagues.”

“-Are going to want to adopt her.” Q thought for a moment.

“Maybe in a few months. She should recognize my voice, at least. Think I’d panic otherwise.” James grinned.

“… And you thought you couldn’t do this.” James remembered suddenly, fondly, back all those months ago when Q first told him and was worried about everything. “Look at us now.” Q sighed slowly, letting the words sink in. James let him think about how well they’d managed as he brought his hands to toy with his pack’s hair. Q’s was thick through his fingers and glossy whilst Alice’s could be stroked into exquisitely fine and soft spikes, looking a bit professor-like.

“Will her hair change colour? Eyes?” He asked after a while. Q roused himself slightly.

“Could do, melanin in the eyes develops with exposure to light, and as for hair… well she doesn’t have much yet so…” He snorted and broke off as he saw what James was doing with his hand.

“What are you doing?”

“She suits it doesn’t she?” He responded with a grin. Q started laughing at their pup’s hair tufts, just quietly enough not to wake her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One chapter left people! No matter how long it ends up, I think I want the next one to be the finish. *jitters*  
> I got the brood involved as promised! Not too much interaction with Alice yet but she is very young, and Bond is very protective! Q might also have panicked to death if the other pups had held her xD  
> And Eve! This was the first time I felt comfortable writing her, so hopefully she came across ok.
> 
> Next chapter should contain sendoffs from Alec, My and Sherly & John, for anyone wondering about seeing them again.
> 
> For now, thank you _thank you_ for all the support and wonderful comments and kudosing. You guys really brighten up my week!  
>  Hope you enjoyed and see you next time :D


	51. H0: Catch your sleep; H1 Spread your wings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had possibly the most fun day of writing getting most of this chapter together. I hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as I did writing. :)  
> Without further ado; enjoy!

“Have you noticed she’s more graceful now?” James asked one day, Alice had been with them for one and a half weeks, and the alpha still couldn’t get enough of staring at her.

“Alice?” Q asked from the kitchen, fixing himself some tea.

 _As if we talk about anything other than Alice_. James thought, grinning. Each day it was a new revelation; did you see her yawn? Did you see her stretch?

“Mm.”

“Well she’s got to get better at controlling those limbs eventually. Yesterday she hit herself in the face when I was feeding her.” Q commented, sound disbelieving and exasperated by their daughter’s flailing limbs. James, who had seen Q’s own morning flails for years now, was just grinning down as he shook Alice’s tiny feet.

She was watching him, she was watching a lot more these days, awake for longer in between meals. But she was still very demanding on the meal front. Q was looking a little pale some days. James wondered if they shouldn’t change the ratio of nursing to bottle-feeding slightly so that Q could take a break, but the omega wouldn’t hear it.

Given that Q’s stubbornness could be legendary and that the man’s childhood was something of an issue when it came to parental care, James wasn’t going to push him too hard yet. He was, however, keeping a close eye on things. Besides, as Q had pointed out, his body was just adjusting to producing that amount of milk now; stopping Alice feeding wouldn’t instantly stop the flow.

Q came back over with a mug for both of them and sat down to also stare at Alice. James grinned, the thought occurring to him that Alice must think they were both quite obsessed. The little beta’s gaze flickered over to Q and fixed on his face, starting to puff out her lips in imitation of sucking. The omega sighed and dropped his mug to go pick her up.

“Don’t.” James halted him with an arm around his waist. Q sighed.

“James, we’ve talked about this.”

“And you only fed her five minutes ago, she can’t be hungry already, if she gets worried feed her then.” Q looked a little uneasy at the prospect and sat back, one hand going to hold Alice’s as the other reclaimed his tea.

James sat back, feeling a satisfied relief. Between Alice having Q’s constant focus and the omega’s own memories of neglect, he worried that they’d soon end up in a vicious cycle. But the pup relaxed and did no more than watch them and try to swallow her own fingers with both parents leaping to stop her.

All was quiet for a long while until James turned on the TV and the sound of some nature program’s twittering tropical birds came on. About to switch channels the alpha paused when Q started flapping at him.

“No no no stop she likes it, look!” James looked down and Alice was…

“Smiling?” He questioned, numbly, as Alice’s eyes looked from the colourful moving greenery of the TV over her head to their faces, offering a muscle-movement type of smile.

“Oh, she has your smile!” Q beamed, looking over to James with delight in his eyes. James continued to stare dumbfounded for a while. “She’s smirking!” Q laughed, bending over in hilarity-born weakness. Slowly an incredulous smile drew over James’ own lips and Q was fumbling for his phone to take a picture of the pair of them before either could stop smiling.

Next time Alice asked for food, James picked her up and pressed her to Q’s chest before the omega could even react.

 _Well played pup_. He thought proudly, stroking her head as she suckled away.

 

-00Q00-

 

Once Q was more or less steady on his feet, James made a visit back into MI6. Eve had practically forced him to come in and show an appearance. It turned out to involve just as much interrogating as he’d feared. At least Q would probably be spared the worst of it now.

Q Branch was practically a crush zone the moment he entered, a throng of minions accosting him for information and peppering him with gifts to take back to their boss. They seemed to be under the impression that Q was a magpie and that their pup a glutton given the amount of cakes, technological goods and general trinkets being passed on.

Some of the mothers in the branch had gotten together to fashion a sling for transporting Alice in. James rather liked that one.

The betting pool of names and genders had even transpired some winners once James revealed who Alice was exactly. The agent had also noticed Tanner slipping M a twenty with a reluctant expression to the alpha’s smug one.

Apparently nothing was sacred any more.

“You cannae blame ‘em, even me and Trotter had a bet going. Neither of us won though eh. I bet you were having an omega boy what with all ay the worrying you two were doing.” 0010 informed Bond in the break room preferred by the agents.

“This is the thanks I get?” Bond questioned mildly playing affronted. Alec grinned over from where he was lounging on the opposite couch.

“Ey she’ll be pissed an all! She didnae win anything either.” The blonde agent in question walked into the room and Campbell hailed her. “Ey Trotter! They’ve only gonnae had a beta girl!” 0011 looked over, dropping the last of a frightening amount of coffee into a mug with her un-bandaged hand.

“Damn. I thought for sure the quartermaster was cooking up an alpha with all the trouble it was causing. Damn.” She came over to slouch down and James turned to Alec’s grinning face with a raised brow.

“Don’t tell me you bet as well?” The grin only widened.

“Couldn’t do it mate. Insider knowledge, wouldn’t be fair.” James narrowed his eyes.

“Insider knowledge?”

“Well the sonograms. Q showed me the pictures, pretty damn obvious she wasn’t a boy if you two hadn’t been so keen on not looking.” Bailey burst out laughing and Daisy barely concealed her snort at James’ fixed expression.

“What?” Alec asked of his friend’s face, grinning wider at the annoyed expression.

“Damn you Trevelyan.” James cursed, wondering why he hadn’t thought of that, or hadn’t noticed Alec’s less-than-surprised greeting of their daughter. The other double ohs simply cackled at his would-be pout.

 

-00Q00-

 

Without James at home, Q found himself at a loss for a while. Once he’d fed, changed and cleaned up after Alice for the umpteenth time and the pup didn’t seem to want to sleep, he wasn’t quite sure what to do with her.

“Usually I’d be talking to your father right now. And you’d be watching, you like to watch… god not in that way, what’s wrong with me.” Q hid his face in his hands and opened them again to find the baby beta curling fists before her eyes.

“Oh, copycat, well, that’s learning. And impressive you know, I’m sure I remember Mycroft saying I didn’t learn to mimic until two months… But don’t tell Daddy, he still thinks I’m a genius.” Q chattered, sitting down in front of Alice’s cradle nest cross-legged.

 _Exercises and entertainment, how efficient_. Q hid a wince as he sat, still fairly sore from the waist down.

“Alright, lets start with something simple shall we?” Q stuck his tongue out and watched Alice’s eyes boggle at the strange face. Trying not to laugh, Q repeated the gesture, watching the little girl’s mouth attempting to do the same thing.

He probably shouldn’t feel so giddy with excitement about it, really.

Copycatting turned into infant yoga, which turned into Q dancing gingerly around the kitchen whilst reheating Mycroft’s latest food package and singing. Alice in his arms waved hers as if unsure what to make of it. Finally after a feed for both of them, Q was very thankful for his new nursing proficiency allowing him to eat on the go too –he was about as ravenous as their pup, the omega settled down to read to the tiny creature.

“Here’s something then, ‘ _The Masterchef cookbook_.’ I reckon we’re up for that, ready?” Alice blinked at him, allowing Q to remove her fingers from her mouth and clutching at his hand in return for a kiss to the cheek.

“Excellent. So,”

The cookery lesson went on for half an hour, before Alice demanded another meal. That was apparently then enough activity for the day for another few hours interspersed with more feeds. Q passed the time with dosing and fashioning a paper hat for Alice, some e-mails to branch who were very excited at all the news James had imparted and demanding photos.

Q scrawled ‘get back to work’ on Alice’s hat and sent them a picture. There was immediately a response of requests to put Alice in comedic clothes and poses. Shaking his head fondly Q left them to control themselves and stretched.

His body was taking its time to recover. Still his gait was unsteady and at some points downright shaky. Everything lower would occasionally ache and be sensitive to even James’ gentlest touches, much to the alpha’s disappointment when he wanted to help. Things were getting back into working order though, and pottering around the house helped a lot. There were lots of chairs if needed and everything was close. True, the once lovely house they’d brought now looked little short of an advertisement for a baby shop, but easy access was more or less essential with Alice’s occasional and unpredictable blowouts.

Charming, what his life had come to. From R&D explosions to, well. Less said on that the better, probably.

Finishing the clicking stretch Q wandered into the kitchen. Even tired, he couldn’t drop off like Alice at half hour intervals. He needed to be doing something to occupy his mind. M still had him banned from actual MI6 work for a while, probably for the best, lest Q started writing ‘diaper’ instead of ‘diagram’ or something embarrassing like that. His brain was still catching up from the hormone dump of pregnancy.

Still, it was nice, nicer than he’d imagined, to be at home with his pup. Glancing at the book he’d been reading her, Q picked it up and pondered for a minute before getting some pans out. Might as well learn something new. It could be a mum and pup thing.

The thought should have made him roll his eyes or question when he’d become a homebody, but instead filled him with content excitement, that he could share some routine with his daughter… one that didn’t involve the more gruesome aspects of the digestive system, at least.

Picking an easy recipe, Q began attempting cakes. When Alice had another bought of wakefulness at four Q enlisted her help.

“There now you sit here and, yes, excellent, keep staring, here, hold this. That’s a new texture, I’m sure that’s good for you in someway.” Inevitably the sugar bag planted next to Alice spilled, but given her fascinated little fingers moving through the small granules, Q didn’t mind the cleanup effort too much.

 

-00Q00-

 

“How was I to know you’d name the little pup in minutes? Just thought I’d put a bet down before coming to the hospital.” Alec quipped as James shook his head, leading his friend back to their house in the dark evening. There was no stopping the smile threatening to break into a grin under the calm exterior of his face. Even after just a day out of the house he couldn’t wait to get home to Q and Alice. The fact that he was bringing Alec home with him was the topping on the cake.

“You put in a bid for _Gertrude_.” He bantered back, rolling eyes visible in the tone of his voice, but so were the corners of his smile. Alec laughed, bright and careless and alive.

“I thought Q would get in there first.” The alpha admitted with a grin and a shrug towards James as they headed up the steps to home.

Inside warm and cosy lighting was beaten by far by the scent of mate and pup. Alec looked no less welcomed by the sight of Q cuddling in a nest with Alice, enjoying some tea and TV.

“There’s my geniuses.” Alec called through a grin. Q looked up as the alpha strode into the room to carefully extract the omega from the nest for a hug. The younger man rolled his eyes but let Alec have his way, offering back a short nuzzle. Clearly the movement sent Alec over the moon as he tried to plant a sloppy, teasing kiss on Q’s head. Another welcome and familiar bloom of warmth swelled in James’ chest. The alpha dropped his bag of Q-branch goodies by the stairs and headed in.

Rounding the sofa the agent bent to gently kiss Alice’s shock-haired head and snuffle her neck. The wriggle and gurgle he received along with a wrinkling, sniffing nose was enough to send him grinning.

“And how’s Blastles today? Getting a belly, good.” Alec placed a large hand on the pup’s full stomach and gave a playful rub-shake. Alice ruffled awake more and wrinkled her nose in snuffling-fashion at the large, unknown alpha. Beside him, James heard Q sigh audibly in relief. The worry that Alice would be afraid of things easily was something they’d probably have to talk about. She was a calm pup, which was lucky given Q’s pregnancy nerves and James’ general hyper vigilance.

Alec leaned down and gently cradled up the baby to let her sniffle his neck a bit, small hands curiously scrunching over the stubbled skin of his jaw at the prickly feeling. There was a curiously ‘whuff’ ish noise of a sigh and Alice smacked her lips contentedly.

“Gaah,” Dragged out the pup nonsensically and wriggled a bit. James felt that strange sense of manipulation come over him again and he stole the babe back, much to Alec’s amusement, and handed her to Q. Blinking a bit after he’d done it, the alpha could hear his friend’s snickering.

“Damn she’s only gone and got you two house broken. Little minx aren’t you?”

Alice had become transfixed at the sight of light glinting off Q’s glasses, and didn’t respond. This seemed to not upset Alec in the slightest however, who reached out to grinningly pull her mad hair into spikes.

“Shame she got your scruffy hair James.” The alpha commented, patting James on the arm in consolation.

“Oi!”

“Alice is perfect. Don’t suggest otherwise, agent.” Q commented with a quiet threat as he tenderly moped up some drool from his pup’s mouth with a sleeve. Both agents grimaced a bit, mostly at the destruction of clothes. Q was wearing one of the rather nice designer pregnancy tops Mycroft had thrust upon him. Even given that Alice was his child, the insult to fashion was a little too close to the bone.

They also didn’t have a car seat in the Aston for the same reason, although that had been a joint decision and hidden under the grounds of ‘safety’. Both of them knew perfectly well that they both just couldn’t face putting an Aston Martin through potential sick ups and other pup related mess.

Childhood, yes. Baby-dom, no.

James felt that he needed to enforce some rules, given that Alice made him want to do increasingly stupid things, like baby-proof antique Jamaican furniture.

“How is the home front?” Q asked them both, settling down cross-legged with some pain, both agents watching him like a pair of raptors.

“Your branch-“

“Are getting bloody awful, keep moping about and mooning over you like some bloody lost calf. Every time I walk through the doors they look up with desperation only to turn glum.” Alec complained with no real heat. Q frowned worriedly.

“Yes, they were quite eager when I emailed today. It’s nice really, at least I know I’m missed.”

“Course you are.” James added, and slid closer to greet Q properly as Alec got up and stretched.

“My room’s free right?” He asked, heading upstairs either way.

“Make yourself at home.”

“Might as well move in while you’re at it.” James teased, and had a pillow thrown at him.

All his immediate pack under one roof.

“James.” He turned back to where Q was watching him, running tentative fingers over his pup’s head. “There’s something I’ve wanted to try for a while.” Of course, every bit of Bond perked up in shameless erotic interest.

He was very glad the he hadn’t been given time to voice it before Q requested a pack nest.

Not that that wasn’t a lovely idea to of course… just that even exhausted from pup care and worrying over Q, James still had enough left in him to crave more carnal impulses on occasion. He didn’t find himself particularly shocked at this.

Alec was delighted. James was left holding Alice and rather unhelpfully acting as the ‘centrepiece’ for the two nest crafters. Q had been gently flustered with his mate’s initial help and kindly appreciative. Alec had told him cheerily to get out of the way.

To be fair, James could grumble in silence but not actually blame either of them. His nesting was improving, and Q complimented his constructions quite charmingly, but he was leaps and bounds behind the pair of them.

“Well I get to hold you don’t I?” James conspired with Alice, stroking her chin. The pup sneezed and got some snot on his hand. Grimacing a little, the alpha reasoned this was his punishment for trying to side his baby against her mother for even an instant. By the time he had dutifully cleaned up the nest was complete.

Q arranged Alice’s specific area carefully, a little protected indent where she could lie flat on her back unfettered with too much stuffing, protected from harm. Alec watched on with intrigue, clearly new to at least one aspect of nesting. James was relieved for that much.

Job done, Q snuggled up curled around the pup’s indent with a finger curled in her tiny hand, and almost immediately fell asleep. The pair of them made quite a sight, both open-mouthed and drooling a little.

A picture was diligently taken before the two alphas tucked in their quartermaster and squashed into the nest.

Apparently sharing beds, berths, sofas and floor space in the past did not mean Alec and James were entirely nest compatible.

“Get your leg out of my knee space.”

“Get your foot away from my foot then.”

“That’s my side of the pillow.”

“Yeah, and it’s my footrest.”

“What are you doing to my elbow?”

It went on in that vein until Q made an unhappy grumbling noise at the same time as Alice and the alphas forced themselves to be mutinously chivalrous.

James was less than best pleased to find photographic evidence when he next woke of him and Alec snuggled together and clearly snoring. Alec’s priceless expression was nearly worth it though.

 

-00Q00-

 

Alice’s umbilical stub dropped off towards the end of her second week of life outside the womb. James suggested framing it but was shot down fairly swiftly with mumbles of ‘Sherlock’ and ‘unpleasant’. Still, James felt a little…wrong somehow, throwing it away. In his hand, blackened and hardened though it was, lay the very thing that had kept the pup attached to Q for the last eight months. This stub had kept Alice fed and healthy. Putting it out in the bin seemed a bit like sacrilege, no matter what Q said.

James walked back into the house and down to the basement. From Q’s study he grabbed a small, sealable plastic bag to keep the stub in, and put that in a draw of his own desk.

Hopefully no one would go cleaning in there and think something odd of him. Laying a hand briefly on the drawer when it closed, James went back upstairs satisfied.

Treacherously his mind spun to images of more little stubs kept alongside that of their sibling’s and he shook himself. He hadn’t expected the frequently surging desire to get Q pregnant again, to have more pups. They’d barely had their first.

The urge was hardly practical; the alpha knew this. He didn’t even really want more pups right now, just that James knew he probably would in the future. Q would probably take some convincing if he asked too early anyway. Maybe in a year or two…

Speaking of siblings and hiding umbilical cords, James came upstairs to find Q on the phone, clearly to Sherlock, with Alice balanced in his arm nonchalantly.

Half of him wanted to rush over and half of him wanted to frame the sight in his mind forever; Q looking so beautifully at ease with something like this.

“Well have you tried locating the source through- Oh, alright, fine. Bring it over… You want me to go there? Have you even cleaned, Alice can’t- Really?” Q seemed sceptical of Sherlock’s apparent promise that the place was clean. “Alright, we’ll be there… No it would take far too long to explain it too you.” A moment was taken to grin smugly before Q said goodbye and hung up.

“You feeling up to an outing?” Q asked him as he put the phone down, swinging Alice back into two arms and coming over. James pulled them both into a hug because he could. Alice wriggled between them as Q’s chin dropped contentedly onto his shoulder.

“What did Sherlock want?” Q sighed a little, without ire.

“He’s trying to locate some hidden files on a remote computer for a case Scotland Yard are struggling with. Wants me to lend a hand, so it must be fairly complicated… I thought we could go and take Alice to the park after, or at least for some fresh air that isn’t a doctor’s office.” James stroked Q’s hair in thought.

“Showing off our pup hm?” The idea shouldn’t have been as ridiculously appealing as it was. Twenty minutes later found them striding out with Alice securely attached to Q with the Q-Branch baby sling, James shouldering a large bag of essentials and the pup dressed smartly in the footed onesie Sherlock and John had brought for her.

Together they probably made quite a sight.

Which probably explained all the inexplicable attention they were drawing.

James had thought Q being pregnant was bad. Q with a _baby_ , however, seemed to draw every single touchy-feely person within the vicinity like a magnet. For two people who used to be able to walk out untroubled nine months ago, the effect was fairly frightening.

“Ooh how old is she?” Crooned one elderly couple waiting to cross the road with them. At first the attention wasn’t unpleasant. James hadn’t been wrong about ‘showing off’ Alice.

“Just two weeks tomorrow.” Q replied, proudly, the rather respectful couple merely nodding and beaming.

“Fine pup, congratulations.” Nodded the moustached elderly alpha to the pair of them, and even reached out to shake James’ hand, his beta wife smiling dotingly.

“Thank you.” The agent replied, a bit bemused, but smiling a little. Their paths diverged beyond the road.

Down on the tube however, things got a bit unnecessary. The fact that James’ senses went on high alert having both mate and babe in such a frantic environment probably didn’t help.

“Hello there, what a cutie!”

“How old is she?”

“Oh hi there baby!”

People were pulling faces, leaning over and, god, going to _touch_.

One beta male leaned over Q where he sat; waggling fingers as if to tickle Alice and Q lunged, snap-snarling at him. The man yelped and jumped back from Q’s lethal but –in James’ mind- frankly adorable growl. The beta’s friends guffawed and laughed at him as he held up hands in surrender to Q’s glare and bared teeth.

At the sign of submission Q turned and buried his head next to Alice’s, nuzzling their pup who cooed and waved little arms to get closer. James was still a little stunned that Q had had faster reactions than him.

They weren’t lying about the fabled protective drive of mothers for their pups. James’ hand found and curled over the back of Q’s neck, a steady presence.

The show of teeth gained them the desired room until they disembarked the train.

Once out however, the whole thing repeated. People in the street stared or pointed or even approached. Clearly Q was reaching the end of his tether.

“They keep closing in, I don’t like it.”

“Want me to scare them away.”

“Let’s just get inside, god there’s a group of them there waiting!”

“Just get past them Q, come on, fast.”

“Let’s just run, run!”

They did. Well, more jogging really, given Q’s still recovering gait, both of them laughing and sputtering breath as they stumbled past a group of affronted looking teenagers who had either hands of phones outstretched, and made it to the door of 221 Baker Street.

James picked the lock and they tumbled in, breathless and panting through their laughs. Alice was waving chubby arms and imitating their smiles adorably.

“There you are, what took you so long?” Sherlock opened with, poking his head around the stairs.

“Decided to walk.” James informed lightly.

“Are you both alright?” John questioned, coming round to beckon them up. “Come on, have a sit down.”

James didn’t feel he needed one, but Q’s steps wobbled up the stairs a bit through his remaining laughs, and the omega swiftly took a seat near the laptop. Slowly he unravelled Alice and caught her up in his arms. The little lady let out a small cry and nosed into her food source pointedly. Evidently all the exercise and new assault for her senses required more milk.

“Err, excuse me.” Q murmured, bashfully, and turned a little bit away to undo his coat, jumper and shirt for Alice.

“Don’t worry, how’s she doing?” John soothed, putting some tea down for Q and settling opposite. James ditched the bag and picked a coffee off the table, stretching pleasantly. Sherlock sat himself down next to Q, causing the omega to jump a little in surprise as he slowly pulled away the shirt a bit further to help.

Sherlock’s obvious curiosity and fascination was intriguing really. James knew he’d grown up as a child with Q being a pup, but it didn’t sound like they’d really seen much ‘natural’ parenting, even in the early years… He seemed almost transfixed now.

Even as James watched, sitting down next to John amiably, the detective’s hand rose to stroke through Q’s hair with quiet familiarity.

“Next one you have, I want to be told immediately. I need to document the event.” He murmured with conviction, free hand reaching to run fingertips over Alice’s suckling face. His curiosity was almost childlike in itself.

James shuddered a bit. He didn’t think he could take the stress of Sherlock being more involved along with his own protectiveness and Q’s panicking.

Alice took her usual length of time to feed from both sides of Q’s chest and followed up with one of her wakeful periods.

James and John took turns holding her and lounging around whilst the two Holmes brothers got down to business. The doctor also presented the pictures he’d taken at the hospital, placed neatly in an album with plenty of space for more. Some of the photos, especially the early ones of him and Q cradling Alice just after the birth, were hard to look at without feeling that warm spread of emotion in his chest.

Alice’s birth felt longer than two weeks ago already.

In return James showed the more recent snaps he’d taken on his phone, which John humoured well, given how Alice generally looked identical in each. Sherlock came over to sit on the floor and play mimic with Alice whilst Q tapped away on the computer, plied with tea and biscuits.

“She shows an impressive amount of cogniscence already.” Sherlock complimented. Well, James assumed it was a compliment.

“Stop comparing her to me, she’s a much faster developer.” Q called over vaguely, concentrating on the screen. Sherlock frowned at Alice.

“You learned fast when you started.” He replied, taking one of Alice’s feet in hand to examine her toes through the fabric of her sleep suit. “She’s bigger than you were. Chunkier too.” John laughed a little.

“She needs to get a little chubbier still. Weight will start going on soon. Then you’ll be a proper pudgy pup, wont you?” John commented, grinning as he shook Alice’s hand. The babe looked on confused, blinking large eyes doefully. “Christ she’s got his expressions doesn’t she?” The doctor grinned over at James, who smirked.

“She’s got his calm.” Q murmured. James glanced over and watched him type for a moment, surprised pleasantly by the words. He’d thought that she got her calm from Q.

 

-00Q00-

 

“Happy two weeks pup, congratulations.” Q announced mid-morning on Sunday, resting his elbows on the frame of Alice’s crib. James had put her there for a bit of kip before leaving for work in the morning. The excitement of going to visit Sherlock yesterday had left Alice a bit unsettled out of her routine and the night had not been fun as a result. It was the first time Alice had simply cried for closeness rather than food and being dirty.

Alice looked up at him a bit wibbly, lips wobbling and eyes miserable.

“I know, you had a tough night, but you’ve been doing very well. Growing, developing. Its very impressive.” Alice watched him and then let out a little whimper. “Shh, okay, its okay,” Q reached into the crib to lift her up, “don’t tell your dad I’m such a sap with you okay? Our little secret. Now how about a bath, hmm?”

Small fists curled into his chest as Alice’s head nudged pupishly into his neck, sniffling there. She spent a lot of time sniffing, watching. Q assumed she was trying to cement herself into familiarity. A survival mechanism. Everything she did was fascinating, really. Although Q might be biased, just slightly.

Bathing together was almost as satisfying as nesting together, and Alice seemed to like the feeling of water. Her hands smeared over Q’s wet skin in the shallow bath, seemingly fascinated by the different texture, little feet pudging happily into the softened flesh of his still swollen belly.

 _Always learning_. Q propped her up against his raised knees and indulged in bathing her sporadic hair with a tiny amount of their pup-safe shampoo. It smelled a little of calming things, along with her soap, something comforting that wouldn’t overwhelm her senses or clog up James and his’ noses from smelling her naturally endearing pup-scent.

The fact that she smelled so much a part of them was amazingly satisfying.

Q took his time washing each gentle squidge of skin, gaining a few of those reflex smiles from Alice, and each tiny toe and finger, around her ears, the new novelty of her cute belly button.

“Good grief what have you done to me. I used to be quite sensible you know, but you’ve taken over haven’t you?” Alice wriggled in what Q translated as her happy way and almost purred along with Q when he nuzzled her neck for probably more minutes than was necessary.

She was like a living addiction to him. Every moment spent not with her seemed a moment wasted, ridiculous as it sounded.

Probably it helped now that her milk demands had plateaued slightly and his personal recovery was improving. Her hunger was set to grow again over the next week for another growth spurt, already she was a bit bigger, certainly chubbier and less soft-skulled than she had been at birth, which was a relief. For now, Q thought he’d just enjoy his rejuvenated energy for the day.

“Alright then, we’d better get out my little Hermione.” Q quickly washed himself down after laying Alice gently on a towel outside the bath.

Dressing had become a lazy occurrence, and this morning Q dried them both off and then let Alice have some bare skin time free of the diaper. He vaguely knew her routine well enough now to predict a ten-minute safety zone. Leaving himself top-free as well the omega snuggled them both down wrapped in blankets on the sofa for some TV whilst they both ate breakfast.

He couldn’t explain why Alice suckling triggered his own hunger and calmness, but supposed it was a rather sensible evolutionary imperative. If he ate every time Alice did, he’d keep up his own strength too. Certainly Q was far from gaining weight right now.

Either way, the routine brought about a closeness that Q had been convinced he’d have never felt outside of his relationship with James.

 

-00Q00-

 

It was going to take a while to get used to the sight of Mycroft’s easy handling of Alice but very newly curious nature with her. His brother clearly knew how to handle a baby, but not how to have fun and genuine interactions with her, so to speak. Now here he was, sitting not five feet from Q and keeping Alice perched on his knees whilst bouncing her and making quiet ‘babump babump’ noises.

At a loss, the omega fixed himself a drink of orange juice. He was still not to drink too much tea, apparently, and Mycroft’s food supplies contained a new and shamefully delicious fruit drink each week.

“How’s your recovery Star?” The alpha asked, bringing the pup back to his chest. Alice nosed into the slight pudge of his breast hopefully before wrinkling her nose at the ‘lack of milk’ smell. At the disappointed whimper of want, Q smiled indulgently and went over to take over the duty of feeding the hungry pup. James said he was too quick to give in to demands, but he couldn’t bring himself not to.

“Coming along. Walking is certainly easier.” Mycroft hummed and immediately moved to check his hips, as the alpha usually insisted upon. Q sighed but allowed it, used to the behaviour by now.

“The swelling seems to be going down nicely.” Q huffed a small laugh happily, he’d be glad when any swelling started going down. Between his hips, belly and chest his body was having a whale of a time.

“You’re always so concerned, I’m alright Mycroft, really.” Brown eyes met his deeply, surprising Q at the contact.

“I will _always_ be concerning myself over you, Aster. Since no one did back then. The three of us, we’ll look after each other now.”

Q could admit to being rendered speechless as Mycroft’s hand closed over his.

“And now your pup as well, we’ll do better this time round. _I’ll_ do better.” Q’s expression softened and he brought his hand free to stroke Mycroft’s cheek and rest on his shoulder.

“You’ve done _brilliantly_. I haven’t had to do more than re-heat food for the last two weeks,” Q grinned. “No more atonement. Be here because you want to be, and because I want you to be, not because you feel you must. I couldn’t have done this without you.” Q informed him, genuinely, smiling as he sat back, arms around his suckling pup. Mycroft shook his head as he used to when Q was a child and not understanding some key issue, except the movement was so fond now that it looked another breed.

“Oh my little Star. Yes you could.” Q just blinked as Mycroft shifted to kiss his head and place a hand carefully on Alice’s, holding her closer to where she latched on.

Somehow, it didn’t feel weird at all.

_Is this what closure feels like then? It feels like peace._

Q pulled Mycroft into a tighter hug and they sat there wrapped around the next generation of Holmes until the alpha cleared his throat gently for release.

 

-00Q00-

 

James’ games with Alice had progressed to what Q insisted on calling ‘play snuggling’. The alpha preferred to name it ‘baby wrestling’, which Alec mocked him for but also swore he wanted to join in with. The man had been in every other day to help out for a few hours, taking care of Alice either with them or whilst they passed out. It was nice to have an opportunity to snuggle with Q, even if that closeness was all they had the energy and health for. Alec booking his overdue and extensive leave for around this time had been a godsend.

Baby wrestling was fun for both him and Alice, and required only an available soft floor space and the pup being in one of her wakeful moments.

James always started and ended with a playful nuzzling session before initiating a few different tactics. Stretch sessions were fun, Alice’s wide-eyed expression when she realised how long she could stretch was adorable, and had begun to be repeated to a lesser coordinated extent in her own times. Tickling was excellent, because it gave an excellent opportunity to read the pup’s body language.

Alice wasn’t really ticklish yet, but she seemed fascinated by the dancing points of pressure and would reach little fingers to capture and squeeze the hands on her, often bringing them to her lips to gnaw on. James would count that as her winning a point. His final move was Body Awareness and Coordination.

“She’s not a trainee agent James.” Q would comment from behind a laptop and mug of tea, curled on a chair as he half watched the spectacle.

“She’s a little genius is what she is. Who’s a clever ducky Almione?”

“Please never call our daughter a ‘clever ducky’ again. If anything she’s a falcon. Or a swan.”

“Or a Qlet. Are you a Qlet? Are you a Qlet?” Alice sort of flailed. “That’s a yes then.” James slowly raised one of her little feet up in the air again and jiggled it, waiting for the inevitable smile as Alice tried to kick up her other foot reflexively. James then swapped to that leg and vice versa. Or did the same with her arms until the little beta somehow managed to curl up into one of her tiny balls or lift all four limbs into the air like an upside down turtle.

“Arrr you win!” James growled playfully, bending for a nuzzle that had the little girl tipping her head to the side for access and whuffling little coos and happy-wriggles, snuffling away at his own scent.

James could just catch Q’s heart-melting smile out of the corner of his eyes, face soft in simple love for the two of them. It made James’ heart soar with pride and happiness.

 

-00Q00-

 

Everyone was exhausted. At three weeks old Alice seemed to have hit a growth spurt of gargantuan proportions. The demand on Q’s milk had left the omega faint with fatigue in an all too literal fashion. Alice’s squalling for food was even struggling to rouse the man from the bed these days, where he’d spent the last two days.

“Q, love?” James tried luring his mate awake with tea on the second afternoon. Just back from a short stint at work taking his left over tried patience of on the hapless recruits. Alice was stirring fitfully in little miffed noises, greedy and growing and pushing Q to go above and beyond in the milk department. They’d upped the formula intake as well, but the little lady wanted from the source.

Q barely woke up; blinking eyes open to half-mast and mumbling something as he shifted a little uncomfortably.

“Shh, don’t get up.” James soothed. Q managed getting to and from Alice’s crib well enough as if driven by instinct, but otherwise his body had pretty much diverted all resources to furthering milk production. The belly Q still wore from pregnancy had shrunk considerably as fat was eaten through to supply the required milk. James wasn’t certain Q was eating enough, either. But it would pass, another couple of days and Alice should calm.

Pre-emptively he helped Q roll over and sit up enough to guzzle down the tea, leaning heavily on James, warm and limp with exhaustion.

“There, alright? Can I get you some food?” It wasn’t so different from Q’s heats, except that the source of the exhaustion was vastly different. Q nodded and hummed quietly, eyelids falling shut and leaning against James further. Glad that he’d already brought up a plate of food the alpha fed Q a sandwich with his fingers in small bites and followed it with some chicken soup. By that time Alice was sounding stroppy.

James detached himself and settled Q down, bringing their baby to him. He’d have given her the formula, but Q had already started leaking at the sound of the pup crying.

The routine carried on into the night. James rang in to MI6 to announce his absence for tomorrow when he couldn’t get Alice to take from the bottle at all. She latched onto Q greedily when he stumbled downstairs drunkenly at the sound of the unstoppable screaming wail of their previously perfect little girl. Collapsing into a chair with her, the omega promptly fell asleep. James wrapped them both up and helped support Alice, fretting about Q’s health through the whole thing.

Even once Alice temporarily finished there was a bead of milk growing again at Q’s nipples in preparation.

James had tried carefully wiping it away one time, only to accidentally start a stream and have Q frustrtedly storm, well, stagger, into the bathroom with a cold cloth clamped to his chest to stem the flow and stay there till Alice began whinging again.

At night, paranoid about Q’s energy and furthering the omega’s exhausted stress, not to mention fowling his mood, James set an alarm too quiet for Q at intervals just before Alice tended to get cranky. This method pre-empted any fits, although it did mean that he was once again just bringing Alice to Q to nurse and then separating them again.

Q barely woke up throughout, simply accepting when James came over and rolled him gently before pressing their daughter into his arms to have her fill.

There was no possibility that Q could manage the next day alone. Any attempts at getting up were zombie-like and fairly unsteady. Q ate ravenously yet lethargically. Bond followed his mate and pup’s routine of sleeping between every feed pretty much. Life became surreal for a day before things begun to clear up and calm down. Alice slept longer and ate normally, Q’s now larger milk supply satisfying her and lasting longer. The omega spent another day alternating between stuffing his face and passing out without talking very much before managing to regain his energy and optimism.

James breathed a sigh of relief when it was over. And found himself holding a distinctly heavier, larger pup than he had three days ago.

“Was that outfit always so small on you?” Alice blinked innocently and offered one of her James-like smiles.

“Good thing you’re cute.” Q muttered tiredly and with not a little truth in his words as he grabbed a chocolate bar from the cupboard and slumped down next to James on the sofa. The alpha felt Q’s weight lean warmly on him and shift to kiss his throat, beneath the ear. “Thank you.” The murmur felt like a shot of pride and when the omega offered half of his chocolate bar, James grinned and turned to kiss him.

“You’re welcome.” He murmured against Q’s chocolate-covered lips. Sleepy green-brown eyes caught his and held them as if happy to stare his way forever. Alice waggled her hands at Q with a cooing noise and then smiled again. Q snorted with a lot less ire.

“Yes yes, you’re worth it. Just be nice to Mummy today alright?” Q requested, taking Alice and tucking her close. James wrapped an arm around the pair of them, feeling Q calm as Alice watched his face peacefully. Long fingers traced over fuller cheeks and slightly more haired head, gaining happy coos in response. Alice certainly knew to turn the charm on at the right times, voice never raising beyond a pleasant gurgle and acting innocent as the pup she was.

“She’s grown already.” James’ hand reached out to cup her cheek and Q’s hand in one go, their fingers moving together and Q smiling affectionately once more, recovering from the sleepless ordeal.

“Wonder how tall she’ll be.”

“Hair colour too, once we get more of it.” Q added, stroking some of the longer, slightly thicker hair up in a spike.

“Eye colour.” James replied, shifting slightly to rest on his hip, bringing them closer together with the movement. Q’s legs swung up over his and nuzzled into his neck.

“The sound of her voice.”

“First words.”

Q sighed contentedly and James nosed through his hair, feeling an uncertain but thrilling sense of future and excitement.

“We’ll have to wait and see.” Q’s smile could be felt against his skin.

“They say that’s the best bit…”

“But you want to do a different sort of test anyway, am I right?” Q looked up grinning at the indulgent amusement in James’ voice.

“I was only thinking of one or two spreadsheets.” James looked at him for a moment, looked at their pup and back into the eyes of his favourite person on the planet.

“Want to make it a bet?”

 

-00Q00-

 

Q would bet James only one thing; that Alice would surprise them.

 

-00Q00-

 
    
    
      _~Dear Blasty, sorry, not Blasty any more, probably. We’ve not got a name for you yet, being in that we’re keeping you a surprise. Sex, gender, the whole lot. Yes, I know, we’re possibly very foolish, and if all your baby pictures involve you in only yellow or white clothes then you now know why. Sorry for that. Well, a little sorry. Your father and I both love surprises. He calls you Rumbles, by the way. And Alec calls you Blastles in some unholy merger. That’s your Uncle Alec. I hope you get to meet him, but it’s not in my ability to promise you that._
    
    
    
      _I’m afraid you might find our lives are like that more than they should be, and if you haven’t been told everything about us yet, I hope you’ll at least understand why. Also, feel free to ask, please. I do hope you’re curious about things. You seem that way right now._
    
    
    
      _Even if I can’t promise you anything else, I promise you that we’ll love you, and take care of you, and be there for you. No matter what, I want you to know that you’re very loved. We might not be the best at this parenting lark, but hopefully you can be patient with us. We’re trying, we really are. And we promise to try and do right by you, no matter who you are, because everyone deserves to be loved…_
    
    
    
      _Any sappiness at this point I should say I blame on the pregnancy hormones. Don’t tell your Father I’m a sap, he’s still under the impression I’m a genius. Well, secretly, I hope you are too, in your own way. Secretly, I think your father is too. You should probably know that we’ve been in love from very early on, but I hope that you don’t need me to tell you that._
    
    
    
      _Right now we’re excited, and scared. Mostly excited. Or a bit scared. You’re due to be born soon and it’s been quite a hectic few months. We’ll probably have told you about that already too, if you want to know. We might omit some details, but that’s probably for the best of everyone. Besides, Sherlock will probably have told you regardless. Hopefully he’s not attempted to take you to too many crime scenes or morgues. And Mycroft similarly will probably be enforcing museum trips on you as soon as you can walk. Don’t worry; I’ll always save you from them if you need it. John will probably be there to help too in that regard, at least with Sherlock._
    
    
    
      _I’m looking forward to meeting you now. I’m not looking forward to your manner of arrival so much, but that’s my hill to climb. Maybe yours too one day, if you’re an omega or a girl… Christ that’s a strange thought. Probably best not to think about that right now._
    
    
    
      _Hm what else? There’s too much to write, really. I’m sure you’ll be fascinating, you already are, and I look forwards to doing things together. Your father very badly wants to take us on holiday. I’m not sure how that will go, but he swears they’ll be no planes and I trust him. I hope you trust us too. I hope you can find your feet and that you’re never more afraid than you can handle. I hope you know you can always come home and we’ll be delighted to see you. I hope you can stay out of trouble unlike your father, and that you can always stand up for yourself unlike me. I hope you fall in love, at some point. I hope you feel love._
    
    
    
      _But I hope mostly, and above all else, that you’re happy. Whatever family we have by the time you get this, and whatever paths your life as taken, please, just be happy, no matter what. Because you’ve already become an unending source of happiness for me._
    
    
    
      _With love, hitherto unnamed pup._
    
    
     _Q-Mother/Mummy/hitherto unnicknamed maternal figure._
    
    
      _See you soon Xx_
    
    
      _20-1-2014_

_**\--22 Years Later--** _

_“Calling all to board flight BA3809 to Aquitaine. Please proceed to gate.”_

Long fingers folded away the well-read piece of paper from last year, although the date claimed twenty-one years previous to that. The warmed and fond smile that the old words never failed to create remained as Alice packed away the token from before she was capable of remembering.

It wasn’t hard to picture Mum writing it, when he had some of his ‘soppier’ and less organised moments. Bored and pregnant and trying to get out everything that wanted saying. Back from when he and Dad were less sure, when they didn’t know that all it would take was a hug to stop tears or a growl to terrify away monsters under the bed.

Thinking about all the inspiration they’d given her, Mum’s easy brilliance and Dad’s adventures, the hilarity of her uncles through the years and the encouragement of Alec… Thinking of her brother and sister back at home that clearly Mum and Dad hadn’t planned at the time of the letter, all the family holidays to extreme climates with Mum out of water and Dad in his element… Every bit of it was like a nuzzle from them both at home. Identical to the one they’d just given her at the gate, full of smiles and demands to watch out for bugs and wishes of luck and worries.

They’d always been what she needed. And more than a little encouraging and inspiring on her less calm, more manic days of panicking about her life, fretting like Mum and dramaticising like Dad. They had always loved her, and been there with open arms… even when her and her brother had ‘borrowed’ the Aston… Or when her and her sister had tried to bake Mycroft cakes when they’d stayed over and ended up flambéing half the house.

Really, they were a pretty great family, in Alice’s opinion.

Standing and shouldering her bag full of scruffy recipe notebooks and clothes, electronics and more gadgets than anyone outside of the security service should have, Alice forced a crazed strand of curly blonde hair behind an ear and focused green eyes on the gate, striding with a hint of her mother's clumsiness off to her first adventure.

 

**-Fin-**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Over 1 year of writing. 300,000 words. 51 chapters. Over 1,000 comments and Kudos. 1st finished 00Q story, one of only 6 other finished works, and by far the one I'm proudest of. I've achieved goals! *dances*
> 
> Thank you thank you to everyone whose read this story and enjoyed it, commented, kudosed, encouraged and critiqued. Seriously wouldn't have been able to do this alone!
> 
> I'd like to take this opportunity to dedicate this to, well, you guys! Because of all the reasons above and more. This wouldn't be half the story it is without all of your support and pushing and ideas. So give yourselves a round of applause! *forced hugs*  
> I don't really share any of my writing with family and friends in everyday life, (though they have to listen to me rant and change character names to 'Jack and Susan'...) so your support means the world to me.  
> And without this getting ridiculously long and boring (I know I have a penchant for it ;D) I'd like to throw out a special dedication to a one miss Moonglaze. It's a rare and wonderful thing to make such an easy to chat to and hilarious friend by complete surprise on here, for me at least! Thank you for the ramblings and listening to my writing frets! *mwah*
> 
> As always, LOVE YOU GUYS! Here's to a reunion in the Snippet chapters/Prequal/Young Holmes Extras or whatever comes first! Anything further I write in this verse will be started in a separate story but linked to the 'Very Much Wanted' series.  
> Hope to see you all then! :D *waves*

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments, kudos and critique appreciated ;D


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